Final Protocol
by Lord Silvere
Summary: Susan Bones, permanent nurse and bodyguard to the comatose Harry Potter, is commanded to execute the Order's final protocol. As hoped, Harry and Susan are transported to the past. But, Harry's recovery is only partial, so Susan must add to her duties the role of foot soldier as the two use their knowledge of the future against Voldemort. H/S. Time Travel. Subtle Soul Bond
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. It is not one of the original Harry Potter novels written by J.K. Rowling. The author of this work of fan fiction receives no financial gain, directly or indirectly, from publication of this work. In publishing this work of fan fiction, the author relies on representations contained in the article "Rowling back Potter fan fiction," authored by Darren Waters and published by BBC News on May 27, 2004.

 **FINAL PROTOCOL**

Lord Silvere

 **Prologue**

Having just sent a message to his father with a Patronus, Ron Weasley walked the perimeter of his and Hermione's temporary campsite, casting various camouflage spells that he hoped would prevent Death Eaters from discovering the campsite's location. When he was satisfied that the spells were working and that the campsite's location was secure, Ron made his way to the tent.

Ducking in through the flap, Ron found Hermione bending over a medical exam table that had served as a camp stool until Hermione had cast a transfiguration spell on it. Atop the table rested Harry Potter's unconscious form, clothed in tattered and bloodstained battle robes.

Hermione had been patching up Harry's more life-threatening wounds and was now assessing his overall condition. "He needs professional help," she told Ron, responding to his unspoken question. "There is something wrong with his mind. Spell damage, I believe."

Harry was shivering. His green eyes were open, but lifeless. Every few seconds, some of the muscles in Harry's face would twitch as if he were having a seizure.

Ron sighed. "So, what do we—"

A subtle chime, produced by an alarm ward, alerted the occupants of the tent to the arrival of visitors near the campsite's perimeter. Ron and Hermione brandished their wands and moved toward the tent's entrance just as their visitors announced themselves from the other side of the wards.

"It's just Bill and I," Arthur Weasley called out.

Arthur, Bill, Ron, and Hermione were soon standing in a circle outside the tent discussing the situation.

"The reinforcements arrived after you two evacuated Harry. They distracted the Death Eaters and opened an escape route for everybody," Bill explained.

"How is Harry?" Arthur asked.

"Bad," Ron replied. "Hermione says it could be magic damage to his brain."

"He's not responding to anything I've done for him so far," Hermione added.

"Will he be able to recover?" Bill asked, his sharp tone betraying worry.

"I cannot make predictions without a proper diagnosis," Hermione replied.

Under his breath, Bill cursed. "This sets us back. Without Harry, there is no chance of us pursuing a successful offensive against You-Know-Who."

Arthur sighed. "And, if You-Know-Who figures out that he does not need to reserve resources for defense, he can focus on his offensive strategy."

"We need not give up yet," Hermione said. "Until Harry is dead and buried, there is some hope."

* * *

 _Three years later …_

A sober group composed of only persons whose loyalty to each other was unquestionable had gathered in an underground chamber beneath the Forbidden Forest to discuss the business of the Order of the Phoenix.

"With Hodgson gone missing, I opted to abandon the safe house," Mrs. Weasley explained. "I don't think he would betray us, but better safe than sorry, I say."

"I hope you had some help moving the residents," Neville Longbottom said. "Weren't there a lot more children than adults in the safe house with you?"

"Yes, but Susan was there to help," Mrs. Weasley said. "She will cover for me at the temporary location while I set up a more permanent solution."

Rather than wait for the gathered Order members to raise the obvious questions, Arthur addressed them preemptively. "I'll be helping Molly in her search for a new safe house. We probably need to assign an Order member with fighting experience to help Susan."

Ron Weasley sighed. "We'll see if we can find some candidates. Perhaps one of us here could be spared on a part-time basis …"

"We'll figure something out," Bill said decisively.

Everybody nodded. A long silence followed as the Order members contemplated their situation. The Order had many members. But, it had become difficult to determine which were genuine, which were spies, and which would leave the Order when membership became too inconvenient. The had made it difficult to carry out any large-scale operation in secrecy.

Bill stood up. "Now that we have addressed the most immediate concerns, it is time to take final action on an issue that we have left on the backburner for a number of years."

"Harry," Neville said sadly.

"Yes," Bill confirmed. "Harry."

"What is your plan?" Neville asked, sounding resigned.

"The best mediwitches and mediwizards to which we have access have run out of suggestions for Harry's treatment," Bill explained. "To be honest, they've been out of good ideas for at least a year. They are randomly experimenting with potions both ancient and experimental. So far, nothing has had a positive effect on Harry."

Everybody in the room was nodding sadly. After Harry had fallen in battle, Order members had spent a year predicting his eventual recovery before allowing themselves to progress through the various stages of grief.

"This isn't the end of the war. We still have options that do not depend on Harry Potter," Bill Weasley said, trying to boost morale. "And, although we may not have as many duelists available like in the early days of the war, You-Know-Who is losing popularity, even among the blood purists. New recruits will come to the Order and be able to fight."

"If we're giving up on Harry, what are we to do with him?" Neville asked. "It is becoming difficult for us to protect him from Death Eater assassins."

Bill was prepared to answer this question. It was the reason he, Hermione, and Ron had called the meeting.

"Obviously, Harry still needs protection and care. There is a small chance that Harry will be revived or recover on his own. Or, maybe we will discover a use for him despite his present condition," Bill stated.

Everybody was nodding. Emboldened, Bill proceeded. "Hermione, Ron, and I have decided that somebody should take Harry overseas and care for him. It will be easier to care for Harry if he is in a country where Death Eaters do not run amok."

"It makes sense to me," Michael Corner said from where he had his arm wrapped around his wife, Ginny.

Bill surveyed the room, glancing for a moment into the eyes of each person who was present. "We need a volunteer. It must be one of us because we are the only ones who can be completely trusted. Unfortunately, our volunteer will have to go it alone. The Order cannot spare anybody else to assist with removing Harry from the country and protecting him. If things start to improve, maybe others can follow or trade off later, but the volunteer should not count on it."

"I'm sure any of us would be willing to volunteer," Neville said as others in the room nodded, some more enthusiastically than the others.

"There is something else our potential volunteer will need to consider," Hermione said quietly. "I have developed a magical procedure that we will expect our volunteer to perform as a last resort should You-Know-Who be victorious. It could turn the whole war around. Were it any other plan, I would suggest performing the procedure now, but the chance of success is too low and the price is too high. Thus, it will have to be the Order's most desperate, final protocol."

Everybody began exchanging nervous glances.

"What does the magical procedure entail?" Neville asked, his voice low.

Bill looked to Hermione, signaling her to proceed with her explanation.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and let out a deep sigh. "The procedure involves blood magic. As with most blood magic, there will be pain for the caster. The amount of blood required also guarantees that both our volunteer and Harry will die if the spell does not work. But, the rewards could be high. In fact, the rewards could be so high that if I had any guarantee that it would work, I would do it myself right here, right now."

"And what are these possible rewards?" Neville pressed.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Harry and the volunteer will time travel. The time travel journey should revive Harry because only Harry's spirit will be travelling through time, and not his body, which is, I hope, the only part of him that is injured. And, even if the time travel alone is not enough, I have incorporated some other features into the spell that might help."

Seeing no opposition to this much of the procedure, Hermione continued explaining the spell. "After arriving in the past, Harry, who knows the key events that led the magical world into this war, can decide how to avert the catastrophe in which we have become doomed to live. Our volunteer can update Harry on what has happened since Harry fell in battle, but really, we would hope that events would not get to the point where such information would be useful."

"My death is probably inevitable, anyway, what with You-Know-Who on the loose and no Harry to fight him," Neville said. He stood up. "I volunteer."

"Please, not you, Neville," somebody said, breaking the ongoing interplay between Neville and the de facto leaders of the Order.

Surprised, everybody looked toward the person who had spoken against Neville. It was Susan Bones.

Since her Hogwarts years, Susan Bones had matured into an attractive young lady. Though she was no beauty queen, Susan's shoulder-length red hair, elegant features, and taste in fashion could turn most heads. Similarly, though nobody regarded Susan as a particularly clever or powerful witch, everybody agreed that she was capable, loyal, and kind.

Seeing that she had everybody's attention, Susan began to make her case. "It has to be me," she said, her voice quavering slightly. "All my family is dead. I have no significant other. I have nobody to leave behind. Yet, nearly everybody else here does have somebody that they will need to leave behind."

"My family is dead, too," Neville gently reminded Susan.

"But you are a top-notch duelist and far more powerful than I," Susan said. "The Order needs you here. Of everybody in this room, I am, perhaps, the most … expendable. This is where I feel I will be the most useful to the Order."

Susan looked at Bill. In his eyes, she could see that he agreed with her assessment of her expendability. It was a hard blow to her self-esteem, but it also encouraged Susan in her opinion that she should be the one to take Harry overseas and carry out the Order's plans for him. "I can take care of Harry. After all, there is only one of him. I've been caring for far more than that while at Order safe houses. I will do whatever magical procedure Hermione wants me to do should it become necessary. You'll just have to coach me a little bit before I go."

Hermione shook her head. "It really should be me, you know. I'm one of his best friends, and I'm the one who should bear the risk of my research and spell work being faulty."

"You are needed here," Susan said firmly, swallowing a lump in her throat and steeling her resolve. "I cannot do what you could do here, but I can do what you would do with Harry."

Hermione sighed, but did not deny that Susan was correct.

"All in favor?" Bill asked, glancing around at all the other Order members present.

The vote was unanimous.

* * *

Quietly, Susan finished packing into her suitcase those of her possessions she was not already wearing. Leaving her suitcase on the bed, Susan stepped over to an empty window frame from where she could look out over the city of London.

More than a couple of ambulances and fire engines, guarded by police and military vehicles, were moving throughout the city, their lights flashing. On the horizon, a faint green glow and flashes of colored light in the darkened sky suggested that Death Eaters had been at work.

For a number of weeks, Susan had been living alone in a flat on the tenth floor of a Muggle apartment building. The leaders of the Order had determined that Susan should isolate herself in the weeks prior to her departure to conceal her trail from those who, in the future, might come looking for Harry.

Ron and Hermione had located the building and cast charms to keep it structurally safe for Susan. They had then told her where to meet them on the night chosen for Harry's departure from England.

The building and most of the possessions of its tenants had stood abandoned since a Death Eater attack had blown out its windows, shattered the foundation, and left no small number of the tenants dead.

Susan was no stranger to stark conditions. Over the past years, she had relied on the shelter of Order safe houses, which were often not in prime condition. While at safe houses, she had been able to assist with caring for children and families on the run from Voldemort and had benefited from the safety that numbers and trained Order fighters provided.

However, Susan would now have to fend for herself and defend Harry Potter, who could not help himself or anybody else. With Harry in a coma, Susan would be, in effect, completely alone.

Nearby, a clock tower began ringing the hour. From two separate locations, each about a mile away from the building, two golden flares shot into the air. Five seconds later, another two golden flares shot into the sky. Satisfied with the message conveyed by the flares, Susan stepped away from the window, grabbed her suitcase, and quietly departed from the flat as the sounds from the clock tower echoed across the city.

"It isn't complicated," Bill Weasley told Susan after he finished stowing her suitcase into a Muggle ambulance that the Order had procured. I understand it is as simple as pushing that pedal when you want to accelerate and the other when you want to stop. The wheel is for you to steer, of course. The magic will take care of the rest. We have spent a lot of time casting spells to handle every situation you might encounter on your journey. You will fit in with Muggles on the road perfectly."

"You also have to turn the key in the ignition to start the motor," Hermione said.

"Right," Susan said, standing next to the open driver's door of the Muggle ambulance. She was looking at the driver's seat with a skeptical expression on her face.

Ron Weasley was also standing by, holding three items Hermione had brought along. Hermione took one of the items, a leather satchel, and presented it to Susan.

"Here are the recipes and information for every potion you might need to give Harry. As you requested, the directions cover every brewing detail down to how to cut up the ingredients," Hermione said. "We will attempt to send you suggestions for potions and dosages. But, as you already know, communication will be limited. You may as well experiment with the potions and dosages as you see fit. We've thrown in a few recipes that we did not have a chance to try before now."

"Thank you," Susan said, accepting the satchel and placing it in the ambulance. "I don't know that I would dare experiment, though. I would not want to kill Harry with a potion overdose."

Next, Hermione relieved Ron of a briefcase and handed it to Susan. "This contains cash and documents for the banks to which Harry's liquidated wealth has been transferred. The money has been properly laundered and passed through many accounts in many countries. Still, you should probably withdraw it mid-journey and then slowly deposit the funds elsewhere once you have settled down."

Susan nodded as she accepted the briefcase and moved to place it with the potion recipe satchel.

Finally, Hermione took a small wooden box from Ron and handed it to Susan as soon as the briefcase was in the ambulance.

"The Final Protocol," Hermione announced, sounding a touch dramatic. "The instructions we discussed are inside. When you arrive at your final destination, you should memorize the instructions so you can carry out the spell quickly, if needed. Also, do not keep the instructions too close to the box, just in case an intruder happens to find the box or the instructions."

Susan was placing the wooden box in the ambulance when Neville Longbottom and Arthur Weasley arrived with Harry, who was lying comatose on a stretcher. A moment of silence passed as Neville and Arthur loaded the stretcher bearing Harry into the back of the ambulance. As Ron and Hermione said their goodbyes to Harry and watched Neville and Arthur close the back doors of the ambulance, Bill Weasley took Susan aside for a private word.

"Daily, I tell myself that Harry will recover quickly or that one day the Order will win our war of attrition against You-Know-Who," Bill said. "I wish I could say I was convinced."

Susan shrugged.

"Dumbledore told Moody and Moody told me," Bill said, "that Harry is the only chance to bring You-Know-Who down. In sheer magical power, only he can hope to match You-Know-Who. There is also a prophecy."

"Many have discussed the possibility of a prophecy," Susan admitted.

"Wherever you go and whatever you do, make protecting Harry and his health your first priority," Bill instructed Susan. "And should Harry regain his faculties, you must treat him as the leader of the Order. Even if his decisions about the fight against You-Know-Who run counter to the Order's prior strategies or seem strange, just follow Harry's lead. He has his ways of knowing You-Know-Who's mind. And, when it comes down to it, he is probably the one who must face You-Know-Who in the end. We'll trust you and him."

"As you direct," Susan said solemnly as the others signaled to her that it was time for her to leave.

They watched Susan climb into the driver's seat and pull the door shut. Susan started the ambulance's motor. As she pulled away, the ambulance's lights automatically began to flash.

Soon, the ambulance was out of sight. Yet, the Order members who had seen Harry and Susan off remained, staring into the distance at nothing.

With white knuckles, Susan guided the ambulance through the busy streets of London. As Susan exited the city limits, the ambulance's lights stopped flashing, the appearance of the ambulance subtly changed, and the ambulance almost literally faded into the darkness of the night as it raced to remove Harry Potter from the land that had fallen beneath Lord Voldemort's shadow.


	2. Chapter 1: Solitude

**FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter One: Solitude**

 _Approximately two years after Harry Potter's evacuation from the United Kingdom …_

Susan was watching a cooking show on television and jotting down notes when a knock sounded on the front door of her and Harry's house, which was located in an unremarkable Texas suburb. Susan answered the door and found a teenager standing on the doorstep.

"Delivery, ma'am," he said, handing Susan a paper bag filled with groceries.

Susan accepted the paper bag and set it down on a side table just inside the doorway while the delivery boy bounded down the steps to his car to fetch the other bags. Soon, the entirety of Susan's grocery order was sitting in paper bags, which were spread across whatever flat surfaces had been available and nearest to the front door.

Susan paid the teen for his services, shut the door, and locked it. She then surreptitiously spied on the teen through a crack in the blinds until he had driven out of sight. Even after his car was out of sight, she continued watching the street for any suspicious activity.

Satisfied that all was normal, Susan returned to the television just in time to see the host of the cooking show unveil a sample of the finished product. Not yet willing to move on to the next chore of the day, Susan plopped back down into her armchair and channel surfed for fifteen minutes before giving up and switching off the television.

Humming, she stood up, tossed the remote onto the armchair, and moved to the kitchen, where she began putting away the groceries and cooking dinner. When Susan reached a stage of the cooking process where she could leave the food unattended for a few moments, she walked down a long hallway and into the master bedroom. There, Harry Potter was lying on one of the room's two full-size beds.

Over the years, Susan had been able to detect only a few changes in Harry's condition. There was no comprehension in Harry Potter's eyes. His face still twitched regularly. He shivered less often, but when he did shiver, it was violently, as if he were having a seizure. Harry's shivers still rattled Susan whenever they came.

Susan walked to Harry's bedside, and, with practiced ease, threw off the bedcovers and hoisted Harry up to a sitting a position. Susan then returned to the kitchen to finish cooking, eat her own dinner, and prepare to feed Harry his version of the dinner.

As always, Harry's mealtime was a slow affair. But, Susan had become accustomed to the routine. Part of her patience stemmed from her having installed a second television in the bedroom. It had kept her entertained not only during many of Harry's meals, but also during those times when she had been too nervous about Harry's medical condition or safety to leave the bedroom.

After finishing with Harry, Susan left him sitting up and proceeded to clean up the kitchen for the night. Before taking out the garbage, she grabbed her daily copy of _USA Today_. For the second time that day, she checked the classifieds, advertisements, and obituaries for any potential coded message from the Order of the Phoenix. Finding none, she took out the garbage and newspaper.

Finished with the cleaning, she switched off the lights throughout the house, triple-checked the locks on the doors, and returned to the bedroom where she dosed Harry with his evening potions and changed into her pajamas. Blushing, despite having performed the routine for years, Susan hopped onto Harry's bed, pulled out a book, and began reading aloud. The reading entertained her, and she harbored hopes that the sound of her voice and close physical contact with another human might break through the barriers in Harry's injured mind.

After reading for an hour and finding a good stopping place, Susan closed the book and climbed off Harry's bed. She laid him down, arranged his covers, and climbed into her own bed.

* * *

Only a few nights later, a deafening crash in the area between her house and the neighbor's house woke Susan. Heart pounding, she lunged toward the bedside table where she kept her wand. To her consternation, she found herself sprawled over Harry. Wincing, she realized that she had again fallen asleep while reading aloud to Harry. Turning the other direction, she found the bedside table and her wand. Brandishing her wand, Susan rolled out of bed.

Wand in hand and senses on alert, Susan crept to the window. From a crack in the blinds, Susan looked out through the window. After watching for a moment, she saw movement near some garbage cans.

Taking a deep breath, Susan trained her wand on the garbage cans. She was debating whether she could rely on her first spell to both break the window and hit a potential attacker when a raccoon suddenly peered over the top of a garbage can.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Susan lowered her wand, but she continued to watch the raccoon for several minutes. After convincing herself that the creature was a genuine raccoon and not some Animagus, Susan began patrolling through the various rooms of the house, checking doors and peering out each window in turn. After approximately forty minutes, she gave up and went to bed.

* * *

 _Approximately two years later …_

"Trick or treat!" shouted a quartet of enthusiastic children from where they stood on Susan's porch as Susan, who had been alerted to their presence by a chime from a perimeter monitor, opened the door to greet them with a tray of freshly baked cookies.

"You're the scariest thing I've seen all night," Susan told the child dressed in a Tinkie Winkie costume. One of the children's parents, who was standing at the end of the driveway with his wife, guffawed at Susan's wisecrack. The mother swatted the father before waving a thank you in Susan's direction. Susan returned the wave, winked at the sibling dressed like a vampire, and beamed a smile at the other two siblings. One was a miniature Disney princess. The other was a rubber chicken. Susan deposited cookies into each of their plastic jack-o-lantern buckets. They all thanked Susan breathlessly before bouncing off the porch and toddling down the driveway.

The princess, vampire, Teletubby, and chicken were crossing the road when a larger group of older children, many dressed like ghouls and skeletons, ran up Susan's driveway. They looked enough like Death Eaters to cause Susan's heart to skip a beat as her fight-or-flight-reflex kicked in. However, the panic passed as Susan recognized the group from past interactions over the years.

"Trick or treat!" they all yelled.

Still recovering from her momentary panic attack, Susan smiled weakly and held out the tray of cookies from which the children eagerly partook. Some of the cookies even made it to the trick-or-treat pillowcase bags without being devoured.

"You didn't come to trunk-or-treat in the library parking lot, Miss Ramsay," called one of the group's more precocious girls. "You said last year that you would try."

Susan shrugged. "Maybe next year."

"We'll look for you there next year, then. I'm sure you and your cookies would be a real hit," the girl called as the group exited the porch and cut across Susan's yard to the next house.

As the group trekked to the next house and waited for the neighbor to respond to the door, Susan, who was scanning the street to see if another batch of children was in sight, could not help but overhear them talking about her.

"What do you mean she won't come?" the precocious girl asked, apparently responding to a comment from one of the others.

"My mom says that since she moved in four years ago, she has never left the premises," explained one of her friends. "She is a certifiable recluse. Probably a kleptomaniac, too, given that she never lets anybody in."

Susan sighed as she stepped back into her house. She carried the tray back to the kitchen where she replenished it with more cookies. The perimeter chime had not sounded, so Susan took a break and went to the bedroom to check in on Harry.

* * *

 _Approximately two years later …_

Tears were streaming down Susan's face long before she got to the end of decoding the latest message the Order had placed in _USA Today_. She took the paper on which she had copied the message to the bedroom and filed it away with the other messages the Order had sent her over the past years. Some had contained good news. Plenty had contained bad news. Others had suggested a change to Harry's potions dosages. A few had merely been encouraging.

Susan looked over at Harry, who was lying flat on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Something in her imagination suggested to her that Harry had comprehended her distress. "It is okay, Harry. There's still a bit of hope."

* * *

 _Approximately two years later …_

Christmas was over. When Susan had not been caring for Harry or cooking every holiday meal or treat she could imagine, she had spent each spare moment of December glued to one of her televisions. She had fallen in love with Hallmark Christmas movies.

Now, it was the second day of January, and Susan was trying to convince herself to crawl out of bed and begin the first day of what she had years ago dubbed "potions week." Eventually, she realized that the sooner she got out of bed, the sooner she could finish the day's work and go back to bed.

Susan skipped her morning shower, wolfed down her breakfast, and fed Harry mush because it was one of the easier dishes to feed to him. She then proceeded to the front porch where she found not only her daily copy of _USA Today_ , but also a fresh pile of thank you cards.

The neighborhood children, who, through their trick-or-treating efforts, had identified Susan as a kindly woman who loved to cook and give out treats, had started dropping by during the holidays. Susan had rewarded them generously for their boldness, and it had not been long before the children had become her messengers.

Susan had always longed to deliver treats or meals to families in the neighborhood, but she had been too afraid to leave the premises of her house. Magic would have served the purpose, but Susan had concluded long ago that she should use magic only when necessary and only where nobody could possibly see.

Soon, the children had been delivering treats and meals Susan had prepared to all sorts of people and institutions, often by way of doorbell ditching. Susan liked to think that she was teaching the children about the spirit of Christmas, but mostly, she suspected the children were motivated by the tasty commissions she paid for each delivery.

The neighbors and even the parents of the messengers were grateful for Susan's kindness and generosity, even if they thought her to be a very odd woman.

 _If only they knew_ , Susan mused as she dropped the pile of cards onto a table for later and quickly scanned the newspaper for messages from the Order. Finding none, she proceeded to the basement.

The main floor of the house appeared as any normal Muggle house would appear. But the basement was clearly a potions laboratory. Dozens of large cauldrons stood in a row in the middle of the floor. Every inch of wall space was part of an elaborate shelving system, and each shelf held hundreds of potion vials, most of which, at this time of year, were empty.

Susan loathed potion brewing. She hated the smells, she hated the ingredients, and she hated what the smoke, steam, and odors did to her skin, hair, and clothes. Unfortunately, it was one of her key duties as Harry Potter's full-time nurse.

Early on, Susan had devised a way by which she could perform her potion brewing duties without it having to ruin her life. Once a year, she scheduled what she had dubbed "potion week." During that week, Susan did nothing but brew all the potions that Harry would need for the entire year, plus an extra month's reserve.

Or rather, she brewed most of the potions. There were some potions she had never successfully brewed despite a number of honest attempts. Fortunately, those potions were the experimental potions the Order had suggested she might try but that had never been part of Harry's normal potion regimen.

For the rest of the year after potion week, Susan would brew no potions whatsoever, relying solely on the year's supply of potions that she had brewed in January.

With a large sigh, Susan stepped over to the pallets of potion ingredients that she had been slowly accumulating since the previous year's potion week and began her work.

* * *

 _Approximately two years later . . ._

Susan found herself barbecuing beef brisket one afternoon in the month of May. Her new friend, Google, had just taught her all about the collagen in beef and explained how she could cook a perfectly tender beef brisket. Having learned some of the intricacies of barbecue, Susan was cheerfully putting her new knowledge to use when she abruptly had an epiphany.

In cooking, Susan had learned that following the recipe was usually good enough, but to excel, one needed to understand the nature of the ingredients and how they interacted. Susan now realized that the truth applied to potions.

 _What an idiot I am!_ Susan groused as she reflected on her previous attempts to brew experimental potions for Harry. _Although it is Professor Snape's fault, too. He only ever gave us recipes. He never bothered to explain how or why it was all supposed to work._

Susan ordered some books on potion brewing, and they arrived with the next shipment of potion ingredients. Susan spent several weeks studying them and reflecting on her experiences in brewing easier potions.

Fortified with this new knowledge, Susan went to work in the basement to attempt to brew the experimental potions recommended by the Order of the Phoenix, even though she was far removed from that year's customary potion week.

Susan's new knowledge of potion brewing, her years of experience with mass producing other potions, her years of experience with complicated cooking and baking, and her access to a collection of elite potion recipes developed and selected for Harry Potter's severe condition had sharpened Susan's potion brewing skills to a level equal to that of most potions masters and mistresses, though she still loathed potions and potion brewing in general and was deficient in other aspects of the potion master's art.

Within a few months of her epiphany, Susan had developed the ability to brew each experimental potion the Order had recommended for Harry, and she had stockpiled enough of each to hold her over until the next potion day.

Susan was thrilled with herself. In particular, she was thrilled that she had finished her potions quest before it was time for her to do her traditional holiday cooking and in time for her to take a break before potion week in January. She was also feeling enthusiastic for the possibility that the experimental potions might revive Harry.

Unfortunately, Susan's joy was short-lived. Harry did not respond to the experimental potions. With scientific objectivity, Susan added and subtracted potions from Harry's regimen and then observed the effects. There were none. In fact, Harry's condition was so steady that Susan began to suspect that Harry did not really need his normal potions.

It was with a heavy heart one night that Susan brought a vial of the last of the experimental potions up from the basement to try on Harry. She fed Harry his dinner and then dosed him with the potion. There was no immediately discernable effect.

With a sigh, Susan went through her usual nightly routine and went to bed.

Two hours later, she awoke to a strange noise. Reflexively, Susan reached for her wand. Finding it in the dark, she grasped it and started as the noise sounded again. To Susan, it sounded like Harry might be snoring. Frowning, she switched on the light and looked at Harry just as the noise came again.

Panic overtook Susan. The noise was not a snore coming from Harry's nasal cavities. Rather, it was a death rattle coming from his lungs. Harry's breath was shallow, and the pupils of his eyes were dilated.

 _Oh, Merlin, I've killed him with the new potion,_ _but . . . maybe I can undo this_ , Susan thought to herself before springing into action.

She bolted to the basement where she grabbed a handful of different potion vials and some of her books and then ran back to the master bedroom. Arriving, she found Harry still struggling for breath. Fighting the inclination to stand and wring her hands, Susan bolted to the kitchen where she retrieved the box that contained the Final Protocol. She returned to the bedroom and dumped the contents of the box—two daggers—onto Harry's bed.

The observations gleaned from a quick examination of Harry and his vital signs suggested to Susan that Harry still had some time—a few minutes, maybe. Trying to not look at or think about the daggers, Susan began thumbing through the various potions books as she racked her mind to think of what could counter the effects of the ingredients in the experimental potion she had given Harry.

Susan knew that she would not have time to brew anything new, but she thought that maybe one of the standard potions could help if it had one or more of the ingredients that could counteract the experimental potion's ingredients. Unfortunately, it was not so simple, partially because each potion came with multiple ingredients, side effects, and interactions.

As Susan scrambled to guess which of the potions might pinch hit as an antidote of sorts without making Harry's problem worse, she was aware that Harry was fading fast. Eventually, Susan realized that the moment of decision had come. Cringing, she chose one of the potions she had brought up from the basement, telling herself that if it did not work fast enough or at all, she would have to execute the Final Protocol.

As Susan poured the potion down Harry's throat, his breathing stopped. A check for his pulse revealed that Harry's heart had also stopped. A normal witch in this situation would have proceeded straight to the Final Protocol. But, Susan had watched a lot of Muggle television over the years. So, Susan began performing CPR on Harry. Nothing happened.

Accepting defeat, Susan reached for the daggers. But, just as she grasped the handles of the daggers, each in one hand, Harry took a shallow breath on his own. And then another. And another, barely stronger than the first two.

With tears of relief, Susan collapsed onto the bed next to Harry. She checked his pulse and discovered a weak heartbeat. Through the night, Susan carefully monitored Harry's condition. To her relief, his breathing and pulse remained steady.

Harry returned to normal after about twenty-four hours. But, Susan had difficulty recovering from the emotional strain of that night. Not only had Harry Potter nearly died on her watch, but Susan had, for the first time, come face to face with the full reality and understanding of what it would be for her to carry out the Final Protocol. Theory had nearly met application.

* * *

The holidays were soon upon Susan. As had become her tradition, Susan did a mountain of holiday cooking, but her little messengers who picked up the cooking and delivered it to various neighbors detected a listlessness in Susan that they had not detected before.

They rushed to cheer Susan up, and soon, Susan was receiving not only thank cards, but treats that other neighbors had prepared for her. The goodwill from her neighbors cheered Susan up, but it could not remove the memories of that night from Susan. Nor, could it remove from Susan the maturity she had gained and the certain knowledge that one day she would have to execute the Final Protocol.

* * *

 _Approximately two years later . . ._

"You have to admit, it is kind of funny that we're the only two left," Ron said to Hermione.

They were standing next to a Muggle post office box in the south of France. With his hands stuffed into his pockets, Ron was exuding an air of casualness, but anybody who observed him carefully would see paranoia in eyes that were constantly scanning the couple's surroundings.

"I don't find it funny," Hermione said dully, staring at an envelope that she was holding in her hands. "And, I don't know that we're really alive. Maybe we just aren't admitting that we died a long time ago."

"I meant funny as in strange or ironic or poetic," Ron said defensively.

"I realize that now," Hermione said, giving up on the argument without a fight.

"Oh," Ron said, surprised that Hermione was not going to spar. He looked at the envelope. "So, are you going to send it or not?"

Hermione winced. "Well, that is the plan."

Ron nodded. "Yup. The war is over. We lost. Everyone but us is dead. Any day now, we might fall over dead of natural causes or be discovered and killed. Let's tell Susan to execute the Final Protocol while we still can."

"But then she'll die while we might go on living," Hermione said. "Maybe she would prefer to continue living a normal life. After a few more years, she might not even have to worry about Death Eaters searching for her. Maybe this whole war was pointless. What if everyone had just left England to You-Know-Who and lived elsewhere?"

Ron stepped closer to Hermione and looked into her face, a tender expression on his face. "Is that how you really feel?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

Quick as lightning, Ron grabbed the letter and shoved it into the mailbox.

Hermione gasped and stared in horror at the mailbox. "Oh, Ron, what have you done?" She was too surprised and drained to even feel outraged about Ron's ploy.

"It doesn't matter if Susan dies," Ron said. "You're the most brilliant witch in the world. The Final Protocol will work. Harry will be revived. He and Susan will travel through time. They will save everybody and everything from certain doom."

"I suppose you may be correct," Hermione moaned. "But the failsafe measures I used to bolster the chances of the Final Protocol's success may doom Harry and Susan to lives of misery, even if they do defeat You-Know-Who. When they figure out what I've done without asking or telling them, they are going to be so angry."

"I sincerely doubt that," Ron said. "Harry will understand. He will be happy that you gave him a chance to save those he loves, even if it comes at a cost. Surely you know that much about him."

"And what about Susan?" Hermione asked. "She may pay the greater price."

Ron shrugged. "The Final Protocol has got to be better than what she is doing now. She's a Hufflepuff, Hermione. She won't abandon her post at Harry's side. Do you want her to spend the rest of her life caring for somebody in a coma whose continued survival in this timeline helps nobody, or do you want her to have a chance to become a hero and save her friends and family from the Death Eaters?"

"Well, if you put it that way," Hermione said.

Ron shrugged. "It doesn't matter. The letter is on the way. Now, tell me, what happens to us when the Final Protocol is activated?"

"I don't know," Hermione sighed. "It depends on whether the timeline is erased and recreated or whether the time travel merely creates a parallel dimension. We could cease to exist or we could wait forever and see no change."

"Sounds like we should probably start savoring the relationship we've built before it is too late," Ron said. "Now, where shall we begin?"

* * *

The day started as it always did for Susan Bones. On waking up, she checked to see if Harry Potter was all right. He was doing as fine as could be expected. His dull, green eyes stared off into space. His face twitched here and there. Occasionally, a convulsion rippled through his body.

Slowly, but steadily, Susan moved through the morning routine of getting herself ready for the day and caring for Harry. After feeding Harry his breakfast, Susan stepped out to the front porch and collected the daily newspaper.

She was casually flipping through the classified advertisements when one caught her eye. It was the message, the arrival of which she had dreaded.

 _Come to the tomb, Bones, and see what will be._

Susan dropped the newspaper onto the floor and shakily made her way toward the kitchen where she retrieved the box that contained the Final Protocol. From there, Susan, who had emotionally conditioned herself for this moment, wasted no time in doing her duty.

* * *

Harry's consciousness, lost all those years ago, returned, except that he was dead. For the first time in years, he could see what his eyes were seeing, and it was horrifying. The corpse of a woman rested atop his own corpse, her dead eyes staring into his dead eyes. Strangely, he thought he could hear her weeping, even though she was as dead and unmoving as he was.

Harry focused on the dead woman. She looked familiar somehow—the grown-up version of somebody he had once known when she was younger. _Susan Bones? Is that you?_

 _Yes,_ Susan responded, her sorrow suddenly melting away.

Before either Harry or Susan could continue the conversation, the chain reaction Hermione had engineered and fueled with Susan's sacrifice and Harry's power transformed almost all of reality into nothing more than a dream of a past future to be remembered only by its two sole survivors.


	3. Chapter 2: Kidnapping on Demand

A/N: Thank you, reviewers.

 **FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter Two: Kidnapping on Demand**

Harry Potter woke up in the darkness of the cupboard under the stairs in the Dursley residence. Confused, Harry tried to look around and understand where he was and what was happening, but was unable to determine much because something was wrong with his mind.

Various memories in the form of sounds, images, feelings, and even smells and tastes started to crash down onto Harry's consciousness. Voldemort. Pain. The corpse of Susan Bones. Every desperate moment he and the Order had endured. Harry tried to shove those thoughts aside and focus on his surroundings, but he could not.

A female voice suddenly intruded into a far corner of Harry's mind.

 _Harry?_

 _Harry!_

It was difficult for Harry to even acknowledge, let alone focus on, that corner of his mind, though his curiosity as to the nature of this strange voice in his head was piqued as much as it could be.

 _Harry!_

Harry tried hard to figure out who was calling his name. The voice seemed slightly familiar.

 _HARRY!_

 _Susan?_ Harry wondered, thinking that perhaps he and she were still dead and that her corpse was nearby. It sounded like her. Before Harry could think on Susan more, his mind moved back to his memories of a battle in which he fought and fallen. Harry's mind seemed to be attempting to orient itself in the battle, even though the battle was long over. It reminded Harry of a couple of times when he had been unable to sleep because of a severe fever or borderline delirium.

 _Yes, I'm Susan. Harry!_ _Talk to me! Are you okay?_ Susan's voice asked, echoing in Harry's mind.

Harry tried to answer, but was distracted again as he lost control of his thoughts. It was at this point that Harry concluded that he was not fine.

 _Harry?_

For Harry, stringing more than two coherent words together and pushing them to the far corner of his mind so that Susan could hear them was as hard as pushing a boulder up a hill. _Help m-m-me_ , Harry pleaded before his mind exploded into uncontrolled confusion and chaos.

* * *

Susan Bones woke up to find herself lying on a bed and staring upward toward a ceiling shrouded in the darkness of the night. Faint moonlight shined onto a wall through a window opposite.

Susan blinked and began hyperventilating. Hermione's enchantment had done _something_. The last thing Susan could remember was being dead and hearing Harry's voice ask her if she was Susan Bones. Somehow, the magic had undone Susan's painful death. Her eyes darted back and forth. It was mostly dark, but from the shadows and what she could see by the pale moonlight, Susan thought she might be in one of her childhood bedrooms, possibly at her aunt's house.

A strange feeling or presence in the back of Susan's mind caught her attention. Confused, Susan focused on it and tried to understand what was happening in her brain. There was something familiar about it. It seemed like a person. Susan took a guess.

 _Harry?_ Susan asked, hoping that it might be him.

The presence in Susan's mind twitched. It had recognized the name.

 _Harry!_ Susan exclaimed, becoming excited at the thought that Harry Potter might have regained his faculties.

The part of her mind that was Harry twitched, but Harry did not respond.

 _Harry!_ Susan said, trying to make her mental communication seem louder or more powerful.

Nothing.

 _HARRY!_

Finally, Harry responded. _Susan?_

Relief flooded through Susan. It was Harry. He could remember her. Thinking that she had her foot in the door, Susan pushed forward. _Yes, I'm Susan. Harry!_ _Talk to me! Are you okay?_

There was no answer.

 _Harry?_ Susan asked as fear welled up in her chest. Perhaps whatever Hermione had done had not completely cured Harry of his problems.

The response from Harry was a long time coming. _Help m-m-me_.

After ten years of conditioning herself to react quickly to any emergency involving Harry's health, Susan was not surprised that her reflexes moved her to flick on the bedside lamp and leap out of bed at lightning speed. That was as far as Susan's reflexes got her.

The dim light of the lamp revealed that Susan was indeed in the familiar bedroom at her aunt's house. But, there was no wand for her to grab, and Harry was nowhere in sight.

A part of Susan's mind understood the idea that she had travelled through time, but the rest of her mind was disoriented. Confused, Susan stumbled around her room until she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. She froze and stared at herself. Once again, the theory that she had travelled through time made sense to Susan, but she was still acclimatizing.

Susan's image in the mirror was perhaps the biggest shock. She was … young. From her reflection in the mirror, Susan estimated that she was now ten years old, or maybe eleven. Having a hard time accepting reality from a mirror, Susan looked down at herself. One glance was enough to confirm that the mirror was not lying. Susan was not an adult, and Susan was wearing a set of embarrassingly childlike pajamas.

"Oh, Merlin," she groaned.

A tiny twitch in the back of her head reminded Susan that she was supposed to be doing something. "Oh, Harry!" she gasped as she ran to her closet and rifled through it, attempting to find something she could wear for an expedition to help Harry.

The selection of clothes in Susan's childhood closet was familiar, confusing, and horrifying all at the same time. "Curse the eighties!" Susan grumbled as she rummaged through her clothes. Eventually she found an outfit that she remembered despising and only wearing for special occasions and the such. Now, she considered it to be the only dignified article of clothing in the entire closet.

Susan cast off her pajamas, threw on the outfit she had chosen, turned off the lamp, and quietly exited her bedroom. At this time in her life, she had lived with her aunt Amelia, who was the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If Aunt Amelia caught Susan out of bed, Susan would be answering awkward questions and doing nothing for Harry.

Susan vaguely remembered hearing from fellow Order members, or perhaps Hogwarts students, that Harry, in his early life, had lived with his despicable Muggle relatives in or near Surrey. At that thought, Susan realized that the small presence in her head did seem to be coming from the direction of Surrey.

 _Can I sense his presence? If so, why?_ Susan wondered. _No, don't worry about that right now_. _Right now, you need a wand._

* * *

The first war against Voldemort had left most of the Bones family dead. The sheer number of deaths had left deep emotional scars on those who had survived. Susan's scars from the first war were different from those of her relatives because, unlike the rest of the family, she had received her scars secondhand from family members who still suffered daily, not the least of which were Susan's own parents.

Susan's scars had quickly become callouses, which made her and her Aunt Amelia excellent companions for each other. Aunt Amelia coped with the past by ignoring it as much as possible, which meant that Amelia did not inflict her suffering on Susan and, consequently, was not met with and not offended by what Susan's mother had dubbed "shocking disregard and disrespect."

As part of ignoring the family's history and associated grief as much as possible, Amelia had ceased wrapping up the affairs of her deceased family members as soon as immediate needs, like funerals, were out of the way, leaving behind much unfinished business. As for Susan's parents, they could not be availed upon to be so responsible or practical.

This meant that there were a goodly number of vacant Bones properties and heirlooms ripe for the taking. Some of those heirlooms and properties had been left undisturbed long enough to be used in the second war against Voldemort. Conscious of this fact, Susan knew where she could find a wand or two.

Susan used the Floo to depart from her aunt's house and travel to one of those vacant Bones properties. It was a house, and the damage from the Death Eater attack that had killed its residents had been left unrepaired. A faint breeze, let in by a hole in one of the walls, blew through the structure.

Susan went directly to where two of the wands in the house were stored and retrieved them. In the future timeline, she had led the Order to this house and helped transform it into a safehouse. During that transformation, she had discovered the wands and donated them to the Order's use.

Pocketing one of the wands, Susan used the other to cast spells to cover her tracks. She held up her borrowed wand and prepared to apparate toward Surrey, but unbidden, a memory of being splinched the first time she had apparated came to Susan's mind. Susan had never splinched herself again after that first incident, but she now wondered if there was a risk of it happening with her being back in a younger, unfamiliar body.

 _I can't help Harry if I splinch myself in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere_ , Susan rationalized.

Feeling like a terrible coward, Susan used her wand to summon another object she knew was in the house—a very old broomstick. Using her new connection with Harry to ascertain that he was not in immediate mortal peril, Susan mounted the broomstick and started pushing hard toward Surrey, where she could feel Harry's presence.

* * *

Susan Bones arrived on Privet Drive with the first hint of sunrise. She landed her broom in a Muggle park, and, carrying it, sprinted down Privet Drive. When Susan was standing on the sidewalk in front of #4, she could sense with absolute certainty that Harry Potter was inside. Briefly, she considered ringing the doorbell and waking the inhabitants, but she shoved this thought aside, opting for stealth.

Casting an unlocking charm, Susan let herself into the house and was drawn to the cupboard under the stairs. Within, she found Harry in a poor excuse for a bedroom. She gritted her teeth angrily, but realized that Harry's apparent mistreatment at the hands of his relatives was not the most important issue.

The cupboard was of course too small for Susan to asses or work on Harry. She cast a levitation charm and soon had Harry lying on one of the faux fancy couches in the small sitting room. She switched on the ceiling light, knelt next to the couch, and began her assessment of Harry.

Like Susan, Harry was now very young—ten or eleven, maybe. The familiar face twitches and sporadic bodily convulsions were still present, which was hugely disappointing for Susan. But, Susan could also see drastic improvements in Harry's condition. His eyes no longer appeared to be vacant or dull. Their brightness had returned. His eyes even moved occasionally. In fact, Harry's eyes had reacted to Susan switching on the ceiling light.

"Harry," Susan said softly. "Harry, can you hear me?"

Harry's eyes moved toward her face, and Susan thought she detected his head move, too. Susan reached out with her mind to the presence in the back of her head. Mentally, she repeated her question to him.

His answer eventually came through their mental link. _Susan?_

"Yes," Susan said both aloud and mentally. "It's me. Susan Bones. Do you remember anything?"

 _Voldemort. … … … Pain._

On the mental plane, Susan could sense that it was taking Harry an enormous amount of strength to focus on her. She cringed, but then tried to put on a brave face. She looked deeply into his green eyes. _Yes, you were wounded in battle._

 _Battle_ , Harry parroted back. It was unclear whether he was quoting Susan or posing a question to her.

Susan surmised that Harry must be confused. After all, she had known what to expect but had still been disoriented upon arrival in the past. Susan did her best to explain. "You've been ill for a very long time," she said slowly, both aloud and through the mental connection. "I was your nurse. Hermione did an enchantment that seems to have sent us travelling through time. I think we've arrived before our first year at Hogwarts."

It took Harry approximately five minutes to absorb what Susan had told him. Finally, he reacted. _Blood?_

"Yes, there was a lot of blood with Hermione's enchantment," Susan explained.

 _Brilliant._ Harry channeled.

"Yes," Susan confirmed.

Harry seemed to be exhausted, so Susan held off from communicating for a few minutes. Finally, she could not force herself to wait any longer. "Harry, it looks to me like you need some professional help. Should I take you to St. Mungo's?"

 _NO!_

"Why not?" Susan asked, her forehead wrinkling as she stared at Harry with surprise.

 _NO!_

Harry's vehement replies had drained him of his energy again, so Susan waited a long while until she thought that Harry had regained some strength. While waiting, she remembered that the last time she had seen other members of the Order, Bill Weasley had emphasized that it was up to Harry to call the shots should he ever be revived.

"I guess you're the boss," Susan said as she battled against her instinct to take Harry to a hospital. "What shall we do now?"

The answer was a long time coming, but it was emphatic. _Hide_.

"Hide?" Susan said, feeling bemused. "From who?"

Harry got no chance to expound. Somebody else had come into the room.

"Who are you?" a loud voice bellowed.

Susan leapt to her feet and backed toward the wall, pointing her borrowed wand at the interloper. It was a large, middle-aged man … or whale.

He eyed her wand angrily. "You're one of those freaks, aren't you? You've come for him at last!" the man yelled. He started stomping across the room toward her, a menacing scowl on his face. "I won't stand for your kind being in my home."

"Stupefy!" Susan screamed.

The stunner knocked the man unconscious instantaneously. He fell and gashed his head open on the coffee table.

"Oh, Merlin," Susan mumbled as she watched him begin to bleed profusely from his head and onto the carpet. Awkwardly, she approached the unconscious man and attempted to perform what spells she knew to stop the bleeding. The spells were not good enough to heal the wound completely, but the bleeding slowed to a point where it would soon stop on its own. The gash still looked awful, though, and the carpet was soaked with blood.

By this time, the other occupants of the house had started down the stairs to see what was happening. Susan wasted no time stunning a middle-aged woman and child-sized whale. With those two potential interlopers slumped unconscious on the staircase, Susan returned to Harry's side.

Susan was not sure whether Harry had seen the attack, but from what she could sense mentally, Harry seemed to have an idea about what had just happened.

"I just accidentally attacked your family," Susan said matter-of-factly. She was in shock, but shock was quickly giving way to panic. "I did not mean them any harm, though. I think they'll be okay."

 _Us. … … Away_ , Harry instructed.

To Susan's panicked and guilt-ridden mind, Harry's suggestion made a lot of sense. "I can hide us somewhere," Susan said slowly. "I'm an expert at hiding us. We'll figure out what to do when we're safe. But, if you start getting worse, I'm taking you to St. Mungo's."

Not waiting for Harry to reply, Susan darted over to the front window and peered through a crack in the curtains. As she remembered from approaching the house, there was a Muggle car in the driveway. Susan's experience with Muggle automobiles was limited. In fact, her only experience was the time she had evacuated Harry out of Britain in a specially charmed ambulance.

After about five minutes of searching through the house, Susan found the car keys. Shortly thereafter, she had stowed her broom in the car and was using a levitation charm to load Harry into the front passenger seat. She buckled Harry up, darted around to the other side of the car, and hopped in.

Abruptly, Susan remembered that Harry's relatives might be able to describe her to the authorities. She jumped out of the car and ran back in the house to put some finishing touches onto her handiwork.

Susan could cast the basic memory charm, but was barely proficient at doing so. Wincing, and hoping she did not cause permanent brain damage, Susan obliviated each of the unconscious Muggles, ran outside, and climbed back into the car.

She fumbled around for a bit and eventually figured out how to turn on the car. Adjusting the driver seat was more difficult. Not only did it take her some time to figure out the mechanism, but it seemed the Dursleys' car was not designed to accommodate drivers with the size and stature of young children.

Unfortunately, for Susan, despite the car being an automatic, her inexperience and lack of familiarity with Muggle automobiles made shifting the Dursley's car into gear and maneuvering it out of the driveway extremely difficult. A garage door was severely dented. Bushes were flattened. Garbage cans were mangled. And, turf was annihilated.

Notwithstanding these difficulties, Susan was able to get the Dursley car onto Privet Drive and headed toward the main road. From there, she wandered to the motorway, where she briefly terrorized a large number of drivers before exiting and making her way toward some warehouses the Order had used in the alternate future.

* * *

The Muggle police were already taking pictures of Susan's handiwork while listening to one neighbor yell angrily when the Ministry of Magic's accidental magic reversal squad arrived. Two wizards from the squad started walking toward the front door of #4 while others began to set up a perimeter. One of the police officers did not like weirdos interfering with the crime scene.

"Hang on, just what do you think you are doing?" he called out.

"Obliviate!" a witch said from behind him.

The two wizards who had been approaching the front door entered the house. Soon, they emerged and yelled to their coworkers. "Bloody hell! Somebody call in the Aurors!"

* * *

The warehouse Susan had remembered was filthy, but blessedly vacant. Sighing unhappily despite her relief at finding a place to pause, Susan tried to clean things up a bit, avoiding the use of magic, just in case her prior actions had set the Ministry to tracking any magic that might occur in the vicinity. Having cleared a space, Susan made up a small bed for Harry and laid him on it.

"I can't stay here right now," she explained, speaking to Harry both verbally and mentally. "If I disappear, too, it will lead to awkward questions and make it harder for me to help you. I will be back as soon as I can with potions, food, and drink. Is that okay?"

 _Fine_ , Harry said. He was not being curt. It was all he could manage.

"Try to sleep or something," Susan suggested as she exited the building. She hopped back into the car, restarted it, and drove away. She found a car park several kilometers away and abandoned the car there before mounting her broom, casting a stealth charm, and flying back to Aunt Amelia's house. The broom was not much faster than the car, but it had the advantage of not being dependent on roads.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore walked up the road to #4 Privet Drive where Ministry Aurors were poking their wands at animate and inanimate objects alike while bored accidental magical reversal squad members watched and supervised the Muggle police and neighbors who were under the influence of various charms.

It appeared that Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt was in charge. He had just finished chatting with the iratest of the neighbors. Dumbledore walked right up to him. "What happened here?" Dumbledore asked urgently.

"Looks like a wizard or witch unknown, maybe even with an accomplice, broke into the house, attacked the Muggles, stunned them, and stole the family car," Kingsley said. "The theft of the car was quite the fiasco. Our thief is not much of a driver. The racket caused the neighbors to contact the authorities."

"I need to see inside the house," Dumbledore said.

"Sure," Kingsley said, gesturing for Dumbledore to follow, despite wondering why the Headmaster of Hogwarts was poking into a crime scene. They stepped into the house. Kingsley gestured to the stairs where a woman and morbidly obese child were lying unconscious. "They got hit with stunners and memory charms. High quality stunners. Low quality, yet overly effective, memory charms. If our obliviators can't sort them out, they may need a visit to St. Mungo's."

Kingsley gestured toward the sitting room. "The other Muggle is in here. It looks like he may have had words with the attacker or attackers. He got stunned and memory charmed, same as the other two. Thing is, he fell and hit his head on the coffee table. Lost a lot of blood. He'll probably make it, though."

Dumbledore was afraid to ask the next question, but it was necessary. "Where is the fourth occupant of the house?"

"Fourth occupant?" Kingsley asked.

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Kingsley, this is where Harry Potter lives. This is not mere assault or burglary. It is either kidnapping or assassination."

Kingsley's eyes bugged out.


	4. Chapter 3: Minor Apocalypse

**FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter Three: Minor Apocalypse**

As Susan flew toward Aunt Amelia's house on her heirloom broomstick, she realized that flying up to the house was risky, even with the stealth charm that was currently preventing anybody from seeing her fly in the morning light. With Amelia being the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, there was likely to be all sorts of protection spells cast on Amelia's house that could detect or nullify stealth charms like the one Susan was using.

Focusing on the objective of returning to her bedroom without Amelia realizing she had ever left it, Susan went through the mental exercise of creating and weighing options to achieve that objective. Though Susan was able to imagine several options, she found that she had the ability to carry out only a few.

In the end, because it was taking Susan too long to fly home, Susan decided that her only good option was to apparate into her bedroom and hope that Amelia had not discovered her absence. Susan was still worried about whether she could apparate in a child's body, but she felt that now was as good a time as any to find out. If the worst happened, even the most implausible explanation she manufactured would not lead anyone to suspect she had kidnapped Harry Potter.

Susan landed in a heavily wooded area, removed her stealth charm, shrunk the broom, and pocketed it. Cringing with fear, Susan then held out her wand and tried to apparate. There was a small pop, and Susan was standing next to her bed.

Three seconds later, Aunt Amelia was knocking on the bedroom door.

Susan quietly got into bed and drew the covers over herself as Amelia knocked a second time.

"Yes?" Susan called.

Amelia opened the door and leaned in the room. From what Susan could see, Amelia was already fully dressed and ready to go for the day. "There is an emergency at work. I will probably be home late."

"Okay," Susan said, making sure she kept the bedcover wrapped around her. "I might Floo over to Hannah's house while you're gone."

"Very well," Amelia said, already closing the bedroom door.

* * *

"Muggles? What were you thinking?" Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, demanded angrily as he stalked back and forth in his office. "This is a public relations disaster!"

"There were certain blood protections," Dumbledore told Cornelius.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts looked relaxed as he sat in one of the chairs in Minister Fudge's office. "The protections were stronger than any wards a magical family could have erected. I honestly did not believe that any person who intended harm to either Harry or his relatives could approach their house. Not even Voldemort himself."

"Stunners aren't all that harmful, are they?" Fudge said. "A magical family probably could have countered stunners!"

Dumbledore spread his hands in a placating manner. "I admit that I may have made some mistakes. That can be addressed later. Right now, we need to make every effort to get Harry back safely."

"Yes, yes," Fudge said. "That will be expected. The Ministry will do everything it can. And, I am already planning on arranging something with the Muggle authorities. We can pass it off as a normal child abduction incident. Of course, they will be urged to contact us immediately instead of handling it themselves should they get leads."

"Good," Dumbledore said.

A knock sounded at the door, and Director Bones let herself into the office.

"What's being done to get Potter back?" Fudge demanded.

Director Bones took a seat. "Once we established that Potter was not on the premises, I called off all Ministry personnel from the scene and locked it down. We will have special analysts go through it with a fine-toothed comb, looking for anything that could identify the culprit or culprits."

"Wand signatures?" Fudge asked.

"Among other things, if we're lucky," Director Bones said.

"How long before we get wand signatures?" Fudge asked.

"A considerable amount of magic was used on the premises before the Aurors realized the gravity of the situation," Amelia said. "It will take several days to isolate wand signatures and consult wand makers for lists of people who have bought wands that could have made the signature."

"There needs to be an active search, too," Dumbledore said to Director Bones.

"Yes, of course," Director Bones acknowledged. "We're looking for the stolen car and witnesses. I've already alerted Muggle law enforcement to be on the lookout for the car."

"Good," Dumbledore said.

Director Bones cleared her throat. "You may also want to prepare for a little bit of an inquiry, Professor. My people reported some irregularities about Mr. Potter's living situation."

"Exactly!" Fudge said, pouncing. "What was Potter doing living with Muggles?"

Dumbledore winced. "At any time in the future, I am prepared to justify my decision about Harry's placement to any official and legitimate inquiries. But right now, we need to get Harry back."

Director Bones nodded. "The kidnappers won't get much further."

* * *

As she ate breakfast, Susan, for the first time her life, regretted that the Bones family owned house elves. The presence of house elves in Amelia's kitchen would make it difficult for Susan to raid the food supply. There was also the small matter of Susan preferring to do her own cooking.

As she ate, Susan plotted her next steps while perusing the tamest issue of the _Daily Prophet_ that she had seen in well over a decade. Upon finishing her meal, Susan made her way to the kitchen and informed the elves that she wanted a large picnic basket prepared for a lunch expedition. From there, she scrounged around the house for potion brewing supplies and ingredients.

Susan found a handful of potion supplies that she felt comfortable swiping. Unfortunately, she was short by about a dozen ingredients. Concluding that she would have to shop, Susan packed what she had found, grabbed her childhood purse with its meager supply of allowance money, and picked up the picnic basket from the house elves. From its weight, it seemed that they had been generous.

Feeling guilty for her deceit, despite it being for a noble cause, Susan left the house and walked away. Once out of sight, she apparated toward the first of several former Order safehouses she had determined might be good candidates for Harry to stay at.

She appeared in an alley near the first and walked the rest of the way, only to find that, at this point on the timeline, it was still inhabited by Muggles. Despite being inconvenienced by these Muggles, Susan silently wished them well and apparated to the second-best option as she realized that her and Harry's time travel could save the lives of even people she had never met.

The second-best option was a vacant shop. But, the traffic around it was heavier than Susan remembered. Not completely crossing it off the list, Susan moved to the third, fourth, and fifth, only to be disappointed at each stop. With apprehension, Susan apparated to the sixth option. She knew she could count on it being uninhabited.

As expected, option six was uninhabited. After all, it was basically the ruin of a small church from the Middle Ages. It was also in the middle of a bleak moor and in terrible condition. But, it was isolated, and Susan would be able to access it easily without anybody noticing or asking awkward questions. There was also the aspect of familiarity. Susan had only visited option two a few times in alternate future. She had spent half a year living in abandoned church and knew precisely what sort of regular maintenance and protective spells it needed to make it fit to do duty as a safe house.

Susan stowed the supplies she had brought with her and went to work to make option six habitable.

* * *

It was well past noon when Susan returned to Harry's hiding place at the warehouse with some food and drink for him. "I'm still working on getting my hands on what I need to brew your potions," she told Harry as she helped him eat. "I am thinking that the regular potions the Order prescribed for you are still the sort that could prove helpful, especially now that it seems like you have a chance of recovering. I have all the recipes memorized. I just need to get ingredients and, ideally, some more equipment."

 _Thanks._ Harry said to Susan through their mental connection. He seemed embarrassed that she was helping him eat, but, to her, it was merely business as usual. And, in fact, it was a lot easier and quicker than usual.

A blush spread across Susan's young face. "Just doing my part," she mumbled. "I have found another abandoned property that the Order used in our future. You might remember being there before. I think it would be good to move you there, now."

 _Good_ , Harry said through the mental bond.

Taking this as assent, Susan prepared Harry to apparate.

"I've tested out my apparition skills," Susan told Harry as she hauled him to his feet and wrapped her free arm around him to hold him up. "In fact, I've apparated several times today. I think I can manage to take us both." Susan felt silly for telling Harry that and realized that she had just been trying to reassure herself. She held out her wand and apparated.

The pop associated with this particular instance of apparition was significantly louder than usual, but Susan and Harry arrived at the front of the abandoned church with all their parts. Harry did not seem to be able to stand on his own. A levitation charm would have worked better, but with gravity dragging Harry down quicker than Susan could cast a charm, Susan found herself half dragging and half carrying Harry through the front door of their temporary home. Soon, Susan was laying Harry down on a decent bed in a mostly clean room.

"I must leave you again so I can find potion ingredients and maintain my façade as a harmless child," Susan explained.

Harry did not respond. He seemed to have fallen asleep.

Susan tiptoed out of the room and apparated away to Hogsmeade, where she expected to find a potions shop with reasonably priced ingredients and few fellow customers.

* * *

The house elves served dinner punctually despite Amelia's absence. Sighing, Susan picked at the meal, and, for the first time, realized that she really was an above-average cook and had spoiled herself. While Susan lingered over the dinner, an owl arrived carrying an evening edition of the _Daily_ _Prophet_. Susan accepted the newspaper and flipped through it.

The headlines screamed that Harry Potter was missing—kidnapped or killed—and that Minister Fudge had vowed that Harry Potter would be rescued and that the Ministry would launch a full investigation into how this disaster could have happened. Other than that, the _Daily_ _Prophet_ did not seem to know much, save the standard lore surrounding the downfall of Lord Voldemort at Harry Potter's hands in Godric's Hollow.

When Susan determined that her aunt would not return for dinner, she ran upstairs to fetch the potion supplies she had spent the late afternoon gathering. Once Susan had everything, she apparated to the abandoned church where she had stashed Harry. She was pleased to discover that he was sleeping peacefully. Careful not to wake him, Susan moved to another room and began setting up the potions equipment. As soon as the everything was ready, she began brewing the potions Harry would need.

* * *

Sunset brought the Death Eaters who had walked free to Diagon Alley. Laughing raucously, they paraded down the main street, setting fires and casting the Dark Mark. They were not necessarily hoping for Lord Voldemort's return or intending to resume Death Eater activities on a long-term basis, but they felt that Harry Potter's disappearance, and hopefully, death, vindicated their pureblood beliefs. No longer would Muggle lovers be so arrogant.

At the sign of the first Ministry responder, the Death Eaters scattered and melted away into the night.

* * *

Morning brought a fat Daily Prophet and a thin letter from Aunt Amelia to the Bones breakfast table where Susan sat staring at her breakfast and planning the rest of her day. Susan went for her aunt's letter first.

 _Dear Susan,_

 _As the_ Daily Prophet _can attest, I have had much to occupy my time since yesterday morning. I spent the night at my office, but I will attempt to be home for dinner today. Please Floo me if you need anything._

 _Love,_

 _Amelia_

Susan frowned and wondered how it was that Harry's disappearance merited her aunt spending the night at the office. She found the answer in the _Daily Prophet_.

 _WITH POTTER GONE, DEATH EATERS RAID DIAGON ALLEY!_

 _Within hours of news breaking that Harry Potter had been abducted or killed, about a dozen Death Eaters rallied in Diagon Alley. Emboldened by Harry Potter's disappearance, these Death Eaters proceeded to riot, setting several fires and conjuring the Dark Mark. Shopkeepers suffered hundreds of galleons worth damage. The Death Eaters fled at the first sign of Aurors. Ridley Riley, a witness, told this reporter that …_

Susan dropped the newspaper. _Already?_ she wondered as fear welled up in her chest. _Perhaps I should have taken Harry straight to St. Mungo's._ _With Harry gone, You Know Who might come back sooner_. _And it would be my fault_. This was a depressing thought, but it did not last long. Susan realized that the result would have been no different if Harry had been suddenly hospitalized with unexplained, serious, and potentially permanent spell damage.

 _Besides_ , Susan told herself, _Harry told me to hide him. And, nothing is stopping me from explaining the situation to Harry and asking what he wants_. She hurried to eat her now cold breakfast and then apparated to where she had hidden Harry.

As Susan fed Harry his breakfast, she explained what had been happening, speaking to Harry both aloud and mentally. She was not yet sure what method was the most effective for communicating with him.

Harry accepted his food from Susan eagerly, even moving his body. It was very heartening for Susan to see this kind of improvement. She wondered how long it would be before he could speak with his voice or walk again.

Once she had finished feeding and caring for him, Susan started pressing Harry for some answers. "Are you sure you want to stay hidden? We could get you professional help."

It was several minutes before Harry responded. Susan could not tell whether it was because Harry was having a hard time understanding her, deciding what he wanted, or just communicating.

Eventually, Harry responded. _Hide_.

"My aunt is the Director of Magical Law Enforcement," Susan reminded Harry. "I'm sure she could help protect you. Maybe if we told her about the time travel we could start moving against You Know Who. Or Dumbledore. We could talk to Professor Dumbledore."

Harry seemed to consider this for longer, but his response was the same. _Hide._

"All right," Susan said, "I'll keep hiding you. It could get difficult, though. We don't exactly have access to a lot of resources, and my aunt is likely to notice if I use too much stuff from around our house."

Harry had a quick response for this. _Bank_.

 _I'm such an idiot_ , Susan realized. Harry's fortune was what she and Harry had lived on for the entire time they had been in Texas.

"I'm going to write out a document giving me permission to access your Gringotts account," Susan told Harry. "Then we'll see if we can find a way for you to sign it."

 _Good_ , Harry communicated.

* * *

Susan returned to Harry's side at lunchtime and fed him. She then pulled out a piece of parchment. "If you sign this, I will have permission to access your Gringotts account," Susan told Harry. "Let me read it to you so you know what you're signing."

 _I, Harry Potter, hereby give Susan Bones permission to access my Gringotts vault, control the entirety of my account and affairs, and withdraw funds in person or by remote means._

Harry seemed satisfied with this. _Sign_.

Susan produced a self-inking quill. "I don't know how we're going to do this," she said.

It took a while, but eventually, Harry and Susan managed a shaky-looking "X" and a drop of Harry's blood.

"I sure hope this is good enough for the goblins," Susan mumbled as she pocketed the piece of parchment. Her countenance suddenly brightened. "I think some of the potions I started last night are done by now."

She left the room and returned about half an hour later with three small potion vials. "The best healers the Order had prescribed these potions for you, Harry. They should help you rest and heal. Though, they will slow you down." Susan explained to Harry as she carefully tipped the contents of each vial down Harry's throat. The effect was immediate.

A ghost of a smile lit up Harry's face. _Much better_ , he said to her through their mental link.

Susan was in high spirits as she apparated to Aunt Amelia's house and then prepared to depart for Diagon Alley. Harry was communicating, the potions were finally helping him, and despite the chaos in the magical world, Harry was insisting that he stay hidden. Hiding him in the first place had not been a mistake on her part. As far as Susan could tell, she was doing everything right.

Susan threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and was off to the Leaky Cauldron. Despite her being in high spirits, Diagon Alley was still a shock for Susan. The damage from the Death Eater rally the night before was apparent. To add to the abnormality, Diagon Alley was crowded with frantic witches and wizards.

Many of the people in Diagon Alley seemed to be making purchases in preparation for the apocalypse. Others were standing in large groups discussing Harry Potter's disappearance. Susan got close enough to one of these groups to see that they were gathered around a poster featuring a Muggle photograph of Harry Potter.

The crowds in Diagon Alley proved inconvenient for Susan. Though she felt like she was older, she was in a young person's body and not fully used to that difference. Eventually, Susan made it to the bank.

Gringotts proved to be the one place immune from the hysteria plaguing Diagon Alley. Susan supposed that this was because of the goblins' strict neutrality and confidentiality policy. Even if a war came, people from both sides would still be able to make their deposits and withdrawals, in person or via owl post. There was no need for a run on the bank.

Susan hoped that the bank's confidentiality policy stretched to keeping the nature of her business secret despite its unusual nature. Unsure, Susan hesitated to state the purpose of her visit when it was her turn to speak with a teller.

"Would I be correct in saying that if I have a document granting me access to another person's account, you would not publicize it, even if it seemed strange?" Susan asked the teller.

The goblin eyed Susan suspiciously. Not only was she asking a strange question, but her mode of dress did not match her age. Susan was dressed as if she were a mature, fashion-forward, adult witch. She even had the makeup to go with it. "That is right," the goblin said slowly, leaning forward so he could better look down from his counter at Susan. "The entirety of your business is confidential."

Susan handed over the document Harry had signed. "I need twenty-five galleons now and some way to charge the account without having to pay visits to the bank and without the merchants or anybody knowing the identity of the account holder. You know, for shopping via owl post … anonymously."

The goblin eyed the document suspiciously, walked away from the counter, and disappeared into a backroom. About ten minutes later, the goblin returned. "The account holder's signature appears to be genuine, albeit crude," he said, now eying Susan with curiosity. "What you're asking for is highly inconvenient, though."

"Can it be done?" Susan asked.

"Yes, but it would be more appropriate for you to go through an account manager rather than a teller," the goblin said.

"I see," Susan said. "Who is the account manager?"

"Retired, I'm afraid," the goblin said. "Because the account holder has not visited us since the previous account manager's retirement, a new one has not been appointed."

Susan looked at the goblin blankly for a long moment. Eventually, she figured it out. "And how would you like to be the account manager?" Susan asked.

"Very much, indeed," the goblin replied. "My name is Silveredge, by the way.

"Well, Silveredge, how about you be the account manager and help me make all the arrangements I need to keep Mr. Potter hidden and well cared for," Susan said.

The goblin teller rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I would be happy to do so."

Susan cringed. "How much is this going to cost?"

"Nothing at all," the goblin said smoothly. "My services for basic account management will be complimentary."

"What's the catch?" Susan said, sounding very skeptical.

"Well, should Mr. Potter later wish to pursue complex transactions or investments, I would have to charge the customary fees," Silveredge explained.

Susan shrugged. "That is fair. But between you and me, I expect it will be a few years before Mr. Potter starts into that type of thing."

"That's all right," the goblin said, still sounding gleeful. "This morning, I was a mere teller. Now, I am the personal banker for the most famous person in the magical world. The bank will give me paying customers by the end of the week. I can get you alias vault keys for anonymous purchases, account security, and anything else you think you need. You should probably also consider having us collect all owl post directed to Mr. Potter."

Susan choked. "Owl forwarding? I forgot about that. We need to set that up immediately!"

* * *

Susan eventually escaped the bank and made her way to the apothecary. It was a madhouse full of panicked shoppers stocking up on essentials for the apocalypse. Fortunately, the apothecary was well prepared for a rush and was doing fine business. In fact, the shop employees had even set up booths in front of the store where they were selling potion ingredients in bulk.

This proved advantageous for Susan. In all the confusion, nobody questioned her buying large amounts of mind-altering potion ingredients. Susan soon departed from the apothecary with enough potion ingredients to keep Harry medicated for a couple of months and a small stack of mail-order forms.

* * *

Aurors blasted down the door and moved into the abandoned warehouse. It took only a few moments to determine that nobody was there. "Clear!" one yelled. Several more Aurors, followed by Director Bones moved in and began examining the premises.

"Somebody was here recently," Kingsley Shacklebolt said gravely.

"Yes," Director Bones agreed. "How far away from here was the Dursley car found abandoned?"

"A few kilometers," Shacklebolt replied.

"Test for any wand signatures," Director Bones said before leaving to return to her office at the Ministry.

* * *

"If you don't start cooperating, I will go to your kitchen, fetch your cheese grater, and slowly shred you until you do," Severus Snape whispered to Vernon Dursley as Petunia, Dudley, and Professor Dumbledore looked on.

"I don't know anything, I swear!" Vernon cried.

"You didn't see any strange activity around the house? Strange people?" Dumbledore asked.

"No!" Vernon said.

Dumbledore shrugged at Snape. "I think he's telling the truth."

"Maybe he is," Snape admitted. He turned back to Vernon. "Let's talk about something else. How often did you complain about your nephew? To coworkers? To neighbors? Did you mention him by name?"

Vernon began to tremble.

* * *

Amelia Bones was just preparing to go home for dinner when Kingsley Shacklebolt burst into her office. "We've got results on the wand signature tests," he said.

"I'll review them after dinner," Amelia said.

"I think you'll want to review them now," Kingsley said, holding out a folder full of parchment.

Amelia frowned as she looked at the folder Kingsley was proffering. "Why?"

"It turns out the Ministry happened to have the exact signature on file. The wand was registered to your brother, Edgar Bones."

"You're joking!" Amelia exclaimed, her jaw dropping.

Kingsley shook his head, his face conveying his seriousness. "Do you know how Mr. Bones's wand could have fallen into the hands of whoever abducted Mr. Potter?"

"I assume that it has just been lying around at Edgar's house since he and his family were killed," Amelia said. "To be honest, nobody in the family has ever had the heart to go sort things out at the place."

"Do you know if anybody would have had access?" Kingsley asked.

Amelia shrugged. "Any of my living relatives, or perhaps burglars. Of my relatives, the only one country is Susan. I strongly doubt Susan would have anything to do with it. She will just barely be starting Hogwarts this September. And to be frank, she simply lacks the disposition to do anything remotely bold, ambitious, or sneaky."

"I still think it might be good if we talked to your niece before news of this discovery spreads any further," Kingsley said.

Amelia nodded weakly. "Of course. Let's go check my brother's house and then talk to my niece right now. She should be home for dinner. You'd better bring another Auror so that it doesn't look like Susan and I are trying to hide anything."

* * *

"Dear Mother and Father," Susan read aloud to herself for about the thirtieth time since she had initiated her attempt to write a letter to her parents. That was as far as she had gotten. Susan was not sure how to say, "I've just gotten back from an alternate future where you were dead and thought it would be appropriate social protocol for me to send you a salutation I would not have otherwise sent."

It had been nearly an hour since Susan had fed Harry an early dinner, and she was ready to have her own dinner, even if the house elves were not going to cook it to her satisfaction. A noise from the main hall of Aunt Amelia's house announced the arrival of her aunt and what sounded like visitors. Happy for the interruption, Susan made her way to the top of the stairs where she spotted her aunt and two wizards standing in the entrance hall.

"Susan," Amelia said as soon as she spotted her niece, "I'm home for dinner, but these Aurors would like to ask you a few questions about Harry Potter's disappearance before we get started."

"Me?" Susan said weakly, suddenly feeling a surge of panic.

"It's just routine," Amelia said.

"Okay," Susan said slowly. "I … need to finish something I was doing. I'll be down in a minute."

"We'll be in the sitting room," Amelia responded, guiding the Aurors to sitting room.

Susan ran to her room, her mind racing. _What do they know?_ Quickly, Susan grabbed the wands she had borrowed from one of the Bones houses and proceeded to the bathroom, where she unceremoniously concealed them in the toilet's water tank. Susan resolved to think of a better arrangement the next time she was alone.

Taking deep breaths, Susan made her way to the sitting room, where her aunt introduced her to the Aurors. "This is Kingsley Shacklebolt," Amelia said, starting the introductions. "He's lead Auror on the investigation into Harry Potter's disappearance. This is Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror."

Susan did her best to convey childhood awe at being introduced to such a distinguished pair of Aurors.

"Aurors, this is my niece, Susan," Amelia said as they all sat down.

"Tell me, Miss Bones, do you have any idea why we're here?" Scrimgeour inquired.

Susan shook her head, making a point to avoid eye contact with any of the Aurors, but also trying to avoid giving the impression that she was avoiding eye contact.

"We are investigating Harry Potter's disappearance," Kingsley Shacklebolt solemnly. "Earlier this evening, we discovered that an old wand owned by the Bones family was used at the scene of Mr. Potter's disappearance. Do you know anything about old wands owned by your family?"

"No," Susan said, her mind racing as she tried to determine if she had done anything else that could be traced back to her.

"You never looked at any of those old wands to see if maybe one would fit you? You are going to Hogwarts this fall, are you not?" Scrimgeour said.

Susan shrugged. "I never thought about it. I thought you couldn't use a wand that somebody else owned. Aunt Amelia never lets me touch her wand."

"Have you ever touched or held one of your family's heirloom wands?" Scrimgeour asked.

"No," Susan said, staring in the Aurors' direction with wide, innocent eyes.

"Tell me," Kingsley asked, his deep voice rumbling, "have you ever been taught to cast stunners or memory charms?"

Scrimgeour let out an exasperated snort. "Please. You can tell just by looking at her that she has nothing to do with this."

Kingsley shrugged.

Amelia smiled at Susan. "Why don't you go wait for me in the dining room? I'll be with you shortly."

Susan stood up, exited the room, and walked casually to the dining room, ensuring that her footsteps were audible. She then turned and tiptoed back to where she could hear the conversation now occurring in the sitting room.

"–no offense to you, Director, but everything about her demeanor screams Hufflepuff," Scrimgeour was saying. "She even looks like a Hufflepuff, with her kindly face and honest eyes."

"Er, yes," Amelia admitted. "I myself have always anticipated that she will be sorted into Hufflepuff."

"I think you're underestimating the capabilities of Hufflepuffs, sir," Kingsley Shacklebolt said.

"Are you saying you think that little girl raided a Muggle house, attacked the Muggles therein, and abducted Harry Potter?" Scrimgeour demanded. "Do you think she has Harry Potter's corpse buried in the backyard somewhere?"

"Not at all," Shacklebolt said, hiding a smile.

"You've got nothing to worry about, Amelia," Scrimgeour declared. "I will personally write a report declaring that we've investigated any potential connection between your family and Potter's disappearance and found nothing. Clearly, your family's property has been burglarized. You're a victim, too."

"I appreciate that, Rufus," Amelia said.

Susan had heard enough. She tiptoed back toward the dining room and started thinking about ways to better cover her tracks.


	5. Chapter 4: Lazy Hat

A/N: Thank you for the reviews.

 **FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter Four: Lazy Hat**

The next morning, Susan found a short article in the _Daily Prophet_ announcing that a wand stolen from the Bones family had been used in Harry Potter's abduction. Thankfully, the article noted that both Susan and her aunt, Director Amelia Bones, had been cleared of any involvement with the kidnapping. It seemed that Amelia had willingly submitted to a truth serum to establish her innocence in the affair.

Over the next couple of weeks, Susan settled into a regular routine. Somehow, she managed to find time to feed Harry three meals a day, brew potions, and dose Harry with potions, all while not raising her aunt's suspicions.

Although Harry was improving, he was still not communicating as much as Susan would prefer because the potions had the tendency to make Harry sleepy and slow his motor functions.

The _Daily Prophet_ often reported on the continued manhunt for Harry Potter or his kidnappers. The authorities had turned hospitals, foster homes, and homeless communities upside down. A reward was being offered for Harry's safe return. Despite the amount of effort poured into the search, nothing had been found.

Susan's new routine was disturbed on Harry's eleventh birthday. At breakfast, Susan discovered that her Hogwarts letter had arrived with the morning owl post. It seemed that Aunt Amelia had taken note of the letter's arrival. Before leaving for work, Amelia had left Susan a note promising to take her to Diagon Alley and purchase her school things on the following Saturday.

Aimlessly stirring her oatmeal, Susan was deep in thought, pondering how she was going to attend Hogwarts and care for Harry at the same time when an express owl arrived, clutching a letter for Susan. Thanking the owl, Susan removed the letter from its leg and opened it.

 _Dear Ms. Bones,_

 _As a result of the owl forwarding you set up on your last visit, Mr. Potter's Hogwarts letter has arrived at the bank. If Mr. Potter wishes to remain concealed, he would be best advised to leave it at the bank, unopened. I suspect the letter contains spells designed to assist to reveal Mr. Potter's location._

 _Please be advised that if you have not seen this morning's edition of the_ Quibbler _, it would be well worth your while._

 _Silveredge_

Susan blinked. _What would that newspaper have to say that would interest me?_ she wondered.

Because the Bones family was among the ninety-nine percent of society that did not subscribe to the _Quibbler_ , Susan had to arrange to purchase an individual copy. The owl that delivered her copy did not arrive until after Susan had finished feeding Harry his lunch. Susan paid and dismissed the owl before opening up the _Quibbler_. On the front page, Susan found a large picture of herself beneath a one-word title.

 _KIDNAPPER?_

 _As readers are undoubtedly aware, the Ministry discovered that the wand used in the kidnapping of Harry Potter formerly belonged to the Bones family. Aurors promptly investigated and declared that the wand in question had been stolen from the Bones family. The testimony of Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, guaranteed truthful by truth serum, corroborated this conclusion._

 _However, a public records request has revealed that Aurors did not properly investigate the potential involvement of Director Bones's niece, Susan. Although Aurors interrogated Susan Bones regarding her potential involvement, she was not subjected to truth serums, nor was she tested for Dark magic._

 _Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour briefly entertained this reporter's questions._

" _Isn't it true, Mr. Scrimgeour, that an eleven-year-old child could use Floo powder?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Isn't it true that an eleven-year-old child could use a wand?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Isn't it true that an eleven-year-old child could steal a Muggle transportation thingy?"_

" _I'm not sure."_

 _It doesn't take a genius to put the story together. Susan Bones could have used Floo to burglarize her family's property and steal a wand. She could have used that wand to travel to Harry Potter's house and attack his relatives, and she probably could have stolen the Muggle transportation thingy—just like what happened._

 _Of course, this is just speculation. To confirm his conclusions, this reporter solicited the expert opinion of his ten-year-old daughter, Luna Lovegood._

" _Do you think Susan Bones could have kidnapped Harry Potter?"_

" _I already told you, Daddy. She did it. The willow fairy wasps told me so."_

 _If the Ministry wants Harry Potter to be returned to his relatives, they should arrest Susan Bones._

Susan crumped up the newspaper and used her "stolen" wand to set it on fire. She then fetched some writing supplies.

 _Silveredge,_

 _I need your advice as to how I should proceed. I will especially need to plan for Mr. Potter's care during my time at Hogwarts this coming year._

 _Susan Bones_

* * *

It seemed that Silveredge had been anticipating Susan's request. When Susan arrived at Gringotts via Floo, she was shown immediately to Silveredge's new, though cramped, office. There, the goblin banker proceeded to outline all sorts of options for keeping Harry hidden and cared for and Susan out of Azkaban. Coincidentally, most of them involved Susan spending Harry's money.

After a couple of hours, the only thing Silveredge had persuaded Susan to buy was a food preparation and delivery service, whose customers were typically aged witches and wizards living alone and struggling to care for themselves. Knowing that she would be in Hogwarts, Susan thought that having Harry's meals delivered would take at least one big chore off her back.

Silveredge was feeling slightly defeated by now, but valiantly pressed on. "You'll of course want to keep him in Hogsmeade while you are at Hogwarts."

"Of course," Susan agreed.

"What about buying a house?" Silveredge proposed. "There's a house for sale in Hogsmeade that would barely make a dent in Mr. Potter's financial assets, and, in fact, would be more of an investment. Placing him in a home he owns would be better than hiding him in an abandoned property and better than paying rent."

Susan nodded. "It makes sense to me. Could you give me about fifteen minutes to think it over?"

"Of course," Silveredge said.

Susan had been expecting the goblin to give her a moment alone, but he remained at his desk and stared at her. Feeling awkward, Susan put on a thoughtful face for the goblin's benefit and reached out to Harry. _Harry? How would you like to buy a house?_

Harry seemed to be lucid enough to pay attention to Susan, so Susan proceeded, explaining that situation and how she would need to find a way to care for him while she attended Hogwarts. It took a long time for everything to sink into Harry's mind and for him to make his decision.

Eventually Harry responded. _Buy._

Silveredge was still staring at Susan.

"I've decided that Harry will buy a house in Hogsmeade," Susan said. "Tell me more about the property you have identified."

Silveredge grinned. "The house in question is #7 Drury Lane."

"Perhaps I should pay a visit to it before deciding to buy it," Susan said. "Anonymously, of course."

Silveredge nodded. "That can be arranged. Now, you may also want to consider purchasing wards and other protections for the house."

Susan rolled her eyes. "Let's see the house first."

* * *

Upon seeing the house, Susan immediately fell in love. It wasn't the spacious and airy house she had enjoyed in Texas, but it was adorable, had plenty of room, and featured an abnormally large kitchen.

Susan directed Silveredge to handle the purchase, keeping it all anonymous. Over the next few days, Susan occupied herself with tending Harry and preparing him and everything they would need for the move. Silveredge also stayed busy. Upon Susan realizing she simply lacked the time to do everything, she had given Silveredge guidelines for buying furnishings for the house.

Harry's mind seemed to be improving, even if the potions kept it slowed down. Physically, Harry was making leaps and bounds, too. By the time Saturday arrived, Harry could sit up in bed and feed himself, though his efforts did remind Susan of a tortoise.

Before departing for Diagon Alley with her aunt, Susan set Harry up with a lunch plate and his midday potion doses so that she would not have to come back during the day to tend to Harry. Part of Susan's motivation in doing this was selfish—she wanted the entire day to herself and her aunt. The other part of Susan's motivation was for Harry's benefit. He needed the opportunity to develop some independence. Fortunately, Harry did not seem to mind being alone.

Once Susan had returned home and Amelia was ready to depart for Diagon Alley, the pair traveled via Floo to the Leaky Cauldron. Being one of the few Saturdays between the beginning of term and delivery of the Hogwarts letters, the pub was packed with customers, a very few of which began quietly murmuring to themselves as soon as they spotted Susan.

Susan felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks. It seemed they had read the _Quibbler_ article. Amelia also noticed the murmurs. Her mouth tightened, and she took Susan by the hand and proceeded to Diagon Alley proper.

"I already told you that nobody of consequence takes the _Quibbler_ seriously," Amelia reminded Susan.

"I know," Susan said as they ducked into Ollivander's wand shop.

Unsurprisingly, Susan ended up with the same wand she had owned in her alternate version of the future. Although Susan was delighted with the familiarity of it, she was resigned to the fact that much of her important spell work in the coming years would be accomplished with her Uncle Edgar's "burglarized" wand.

Susan and her aunt left Ollivander's and made their way through the other shops of Diagon Alley at a leisurely pace. A few witches and wizards shot Susan suspicious glances, but most of the people in Diagon Alley were too preoccupied with shopping to pay attention to their fellow customers. And, Susan hoped, too busy to read stupid newspapers.

Eventually, Amelia dropped Susan off at Madam Malkin's to be fitted for robes. "I'm going to take care of some business at the bank," she told Susan. "Buy your school robes, like your Hogwarts letter says. Also buy whatever other clothes you think you need. I've noticed some of your clothes becoming too small for you.

Susan smiled and waved goodbye to her aunt before stepping into the shop. She had been planning a new wardrobe since her arrival in the past. As soon as she walked in, a shop employee took her aside and directed her to stand on a stool. Susan was pleasantly surprised to find Hermione Granger standing on a nearby stool. The eleven-year-old was positively quivering with excitement.

"Hello," Susan said politely. "Going to Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Hermione grinned. "Are you?"

"Yes," Susan replied, also smiling widely. She and Hermione had not been the closest of friends in the alternate future, but seeing the young genius cheered up Susan considerably. It was a reminder that the Final Protocol had worked marvelously and that things in this timeline could turn out for the best.

Hermione took Susan's smile as a sign that one new Hogwarts student was glad to meet another new Hogwarts student. "My name is Hermione Granger, and I am a Muggleborn witch," Hermione declared. "What about you?"

"I'm Susan Bones," Susan confessed. "I was born into a magical family."

"You must know a lot about Hogwarts," Hermione said, her words coming out so quickly that they practically tumbled over each other. "Do you have any idea what House you will be sorted into?"

"Hufflepuff," Susan said.

Although, now that Susan thought about it, she realized that some of her behavior of late had been Slytherin-like. _Please not Slytherin_ , she thought to herself.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "How can you be so confident? I've researched everything, and I can't decide between Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor."

"Oh, I just can tell," Susan said casually, winking.

"Which House will I be in, then?" Hermione asked.

Susan pursed her lips and pretended to study Hermione closely. With great relish, she brought her finger up to her mouth, licked it, held it up in the air, and closed her eyes. After waiting a moment, she opened her eyes and stared at Hermione solemnly. "Gryffindor."

"How do you know? Were you doing magic?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"It was actually your magic," Susan said mysteriously.

"I don't understand," Hermione said, "but I'm sure I will after I've had a chance to catch up with you who were born into magical households. Will you be on the Hogwarts Express?"

"Yes," Susan said, "maybe we can share a compartment."

* * *

Susan moved Harry into #7 Drury Lane four days before she and the rest of the Hogwarts students were due to board the Hogwarts Express. Harry had become sufficiently ambulatory to feed and take care of himself, so long as Susan set out his meals and potions ahead of time. Unfortunately, his ability to communicate had not improved. If anything, it had become worse what with Harry now focusing his mind on his body's movements in addition to the other thoughts that were plaguing him.

Still, Susan was ecstatic to see Harry Potter up and about again. She was also relieved that she would be able to cut down her visits to Harry to once a day. As it was, she was concerned about being able to sneak out of Hogwarts that often. Fortunately, in her alternate future, she had learned from the leaders of Dumbledore's Army of secret passages to and from the castle.

* * *

Chaos reigned at Platform 9 ¾. In addition to the normal hustle and bustle of students and their families, various news reporters and Ministry officials had made an appearance. Some of the news outlets had speculated that the Hogwarts Express could become a target of the Death Eaters who had briefly appeared in Diagon Alley.

Some of the less realistic sources had speculated that Harry Potter might appear and board the express—after all, it had been reported that Harry's Hogwarts letter had been delivered to Gringotts, though much to the annoyance of the authorities, the goblins had refused to comment on the matter.

Having already exchanged farewells with her harried aunt, Susan carefully threaded her way through the crowd and toward one of the cars at the back of the Hogwarts Express. Susan glanced around furtively. Seeing that nobody was looking at her, she drew Uncle Edgar's wand. Using it, she levitated her trunk onto the train and into an empty car. She had just settled into an empty compartment when one of her pre-Hogwarts acquaintances joined her.

"Hannah!" Susan exclaimed.

"I'm so excited!" Hannah squealed as she joined Susan in the compartment.

"Me, too," Susan said. Everything about the Hogwarts experience was quite familiar and even old to her, but she was still excited to go back to Hogwarts and become friends her original crop of friends, most of whom the Death Eaters had killed in her alternate future.

Hannah and Susan were catching up on the latest events in each other's lives, minus Susan's time travel, when Neville Longbottom stuck his head in the compartment and nodded toward the empty seats. "Hello there, are those taken?"

"Not at all," Susan said, "come sit with us. Is that a toad?"

"Yes," Neville confessed as he settled into the compartment. "His name is Trevor, and he keeps trying to escape."

Susan was attempting to devise a method of keeping the toad from escaping when Hermione Granger showed up. "Susan Bones, right?"

"Yes," Susan said, "and these are Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom. Won't you join us?"

"I'd love to," Hermione said, her facial expression only barely concealing that she had been desperately hoping for the invitation.

"We're trying to find a way to keep Neville's toad from escaping," Susan told Hermione, knowing that the bushy-haired witch would instantly involve herself in the project.

It did not take them long to fashion a better way for Neville to keep track of his toad. Once that business had concluded, they began chatting in earnest about their observations of the Hogwarts Express and hopes for their first year at Hogwarts. During a lull in the conversation, Hermione brought up Susan's alleged ability to predict what house they would be sorted into.

"She claims I will be a Gryffindor, but I am not convinced she really knows that," Hermione said dubiously.

Hannah shrugged. "I expect I will be a Hufflepuff. None of the other houses seem appealing to me."

"What house do you think I will be in?" Neville asked Susan.

"Well, let us see," Susan said, smiling as she extended her arm and touched Neville's forehead with her index finger. She held her finger on Neville's head for a full minute. "I'm thinking that you're a Gryffindor, too."

"Really?" Neville said doubtfully. "I've been thinking Hufflepuff as none of the other Houses seem to describe me."

Susan shrugged. "That's what I sense."

"Wait a moment," Hermione said, frowning. "You didn't stick your finger on my forehead when you decided that I would be in Gryffindor."

"Everybody is different," Susan said sagely, working hard to keep a straight face.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. Clearly, she was beginning to think that Susan's magical "ability" for discerning the house of various students was just a joke.

Hannah brought up another topic, and the group soon had placed Susan's predictions out of their minds. As the minutes passed, Susan began to become very bored with the conversation. She stopped actively participating and became an observer. _They're just children_ , she realized, _and I am an adult_.

Susan was still glumly preoccupied with this thought when she boarded one of the first-year boats with Hannah, Hermione, and Neville. However, Susan's malaise soon passed as she took the opportunity to stare with fascination at the castle as her boat crossed the lake. Soon, all the first-year students were standing outside Great Hall, waiting to be sorted.

Susan caught sight of Ron Weasley. It seemed that he had made friends with Seamus Finnegan and Ernie MacMillan on the train. The three had just exchanged nasty words with Draco Malfoy and his goons. Now, Ron and his friends were moving toward Susan's group. When Ron spied Susan, his eyes lit up with recognition.

"You're the witch who kidnapped Harry Potter," Ron said.

Hermione's mouth dropped open

"Nobody of importance takes the _Quibbler_ seriously," Susan said stiffly.

"Still, it was one of your family's wands. Downright suspicious, if you ask me," Ron grumbled. "And my sister says Luna Lovegood is always right."

"Nobody is asking you, or your sister," Susan said firmly. She did not want to alienate Ron Weasley as a potential friend, but he was being annoying.

Hannah and Neville were glaring at Ron, showing a bit of loyalty toward their new friend Susan. Hermione, however, as much as she seemed to like Susan, was struggling to overcome her natural curiosity. She seemed prepared to be Ron's audience. But, Professor McGonagall interrupted the conversation when she came to escort the first-year students into the Great Hall for sorting.

Very quickly, Susan found herself sitting on a stool with the Sorting Hat on her head. It was a full minute before the hat spoke.

 _I've never seen this before_ , the hat mused. _I wish I could have sorted you without seeing that I had already sorted you into Hufflepuff in an alternate timeline. It would have been very interesting to see if I sorted you into the same house. Now that I know, I'm afraid that my decision will be biased._

 _I would be quite satisfied with Hufflepuff_ , Susan offered.

 _Maybe_ , the hat mused. _A lot has happened since you were last sorted. You've done brave things. You've also done things that were sneaky and kind of cunning. Based on those things alone, I would be justified in placing you in either Gryffindor or Slytherin_.

 _I really prefer Hufflepuff_ , Susan hinted.

 _Only because it is familiar_ , the Sorting Hat laughed. _Ironically, your arguments and motivations are kind of cowardly and artless. Definitely not Gryffindor or Slytherin material._

Susan fumed angrily.

 _Relax, I'm only teasing you_ , the hat said. _You have done marvelous and admirable things, Susan Bones. Some of those things were courageous and others were sly. But your motivation has always been loyalty and friendship. You are proof that Hufflepuffs are capable of great things. Truly you are an heir of the legacy of Helga Hufflepuff!_

A few moments passed without the hat announcing its decision to the school.

 _Are you going to tell everybody else that I am a Hufflepuff or not?_ Susan demanded.

 _Hang on, I'm busy._

 _What do you mean you're busy?_ Susan asked. _Isn't it your job to sort people?_

 _I also have to sing a different song every year. I see that you've got quite a few of my songs for the next few years floating around in your memory. There's no point in inventing the wheel twice. So, hang on while I memorize them._

Susan sighed.

Another few minutes passed.

 _Are you done yet?_

 _Almost. But now I see that you have quite a few killer recipes for holiday sweets and Mexican food. I'd better memorize those, too._

 _You have no need for recipes!_ Susan exclaimed.

 _Maybe if you were Ravenclaw material, you would have noticed your first time around that the house elves only have a limited repertoire_ , the hat retorted. _They need help, and I am going to get it to them! Of course, if you were to promise to pay them a visit . . ._

 _Yes, fine. I promise._ Susan responded. _Now, please sort me._

"Hufflepuff," the hat said, apparently forgetting to be loud and dramatic.

Susan let out a sigh of relief as Professor McGonagall removed the hat from her head and pointed her toward the Hufflepuff table. Susan rushed over and sat next to her friend, Hannah, who the Sorting Hat had already sorted into Hufflepuff.

"What took so long?" Hannah whispered as the sorting continued. "Even Professor Dumbledore was beginning to look concerned."

"The stupid thing said it needed to buy time to compose some song," Susan lied as several upper-year Hufflepuffs slapped her on the back, excited that Hufflepuff had already gotten so many students this early in the sorting.

Soon, it was Hermione's turn, and Susan watched with amusement as the Sorting Hat declared that Hermione was to be in Gryffindor. Professor McGonagall removed the hat from Hermione's head, and Hermione walked toward the Gryffindor table, a frown on her face. Just before sitting down she looked toward Susan. Unable to resist the temptation, Susan winked at Hermione and then turned her attention to the sorting without waiting for Hermione to respond.

The Sorting Hat placed Neville into Gryffindor, and Susan made a point of applauding more loudly for him than she had for any of the preceding students. Neville was grinning happily as he made his way to the Gryffindor table. On his way, he waved to Susan and Hannah, who waved back.

* * *

After the feast, Susan dutifully followed a Hufflepuff prefect to the Hufflepuff common room. Upon arriving, Susan made a show of unpacking and socializing with the other first-year Hufflepuffs. Casually, she changed out of her school robes, and at the first opportunity, she mumbled some excuse and quietly slipped away from her classmates.

It was time to visit Harry. Doing it at this time of night was risky, but Susan was confident that she could avoid detection. Even if detected or nearly detected, there were still some options, especially for somebody trained by the Order of the Phoenix to avoid detection by Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Fortunately, for the rest of the school year, Susan intended to accomplish her daily visits to Harry during the late afternoon or early evening when she would not be breaking curfew and when her movements would be considered less interesting to casual onlookers.

As soon as Susan exited the Hufflepuff common room, she cast a disillusionment charm on herself. Technically, it was not yet past curfew, but on this first night of term, a first-year Hufflepuff student wandering the castle was sure to be kindly escorted to the Hufflepuff common room.

Encountering no trouble, Susan made her way to the secret passage behind the statue of the one-eyed witch where she tapped the witch's hump and said the magic word to unlock the passage. Enjoying the advantages of an eleven-year-old body, Susan crawled into the small space and made her way into the tunnel.

Susan followed the tunnel to its end at the cellar of Honeydukes. With a bit of luck, she was able to get onto the streets of Hogsmeade without alerting the Honeydukes owners to her presence or having to use any magic to disguise her presence. From there, it was a simple matter to walk to Drury Lane and let herself into Harry's house.

"Hello, Harry," Susan called out as she entered the bedroom in which she had placed Harry.

Harry was in bed. _Hello_ , Harry said, telepathically responding to Susan with excruciating slowness.

"The sorting was just as you probably remember," Susan said brightly as she bustled around the bedroom, rapidly straightening and tidying with practiced ease. "Although, I did tease Hermione a little by doing a bit of fake magic and 'predicting' that she would be sorted into Gryffindor. When she was sorted into Gryffindor, I winked at her."

 _Funny_ , Harry said slowly, a small smile breaking on his face.

Susan ran out of chores in Harry's bedroom and moved to the kitchen to unpack the owl-delivered meals for Harry. Still, she was able to continue the conversation with Harry through their mental link. _Is there anything you need before I leave? I'll be back tomorrow._

 _How … … … time … … … travel … … … why_ , Harry urged, his thoughts coming at a slow pace as Susan visited the basement to retrieve potion vials.

By the time Harry had finished the sentence, Susan had returned to his bedroom with the meals and potions. She set Harry's next three meals up on a table next to his bed and cast charms that would keep them just the right temperature until Harry was ready to partake.

"I'm afraid that it would be a long conversation," Susan said, taking a seat in the chair next to Harry's bedside. Her conversation with Harry would only be a few sentences, but it would take him several minutes to process her words and respond. "Perhaps we could start tomorrow. I need to get back to the castle and sleep. It is already quite late. And of course, I will need to attend classes."

 _Tomorrow_ , Harry agreed.

"Thank you for your patience," Susan said. Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him on his forehead, just below the infamous lightning-bolt scar. "Shall I leave the light on or off?"

 _On_ , Harry requested.

"All right," Susan said, "until tomorrow." She then left the room, exited the house, locked the front door, and made her way back toward Honeydukes and the secret passageway into the castle.


	6. Chapter 5: Nobodies

**A/N: This chapter is made possible by reviewers like you. Thank you.**

 **FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter Five: Nobodies**

Within three seconds of arriving for breakfast in the Great Hall the morning after the welcoming feast, Susan found herself face-to-face with Hermione Granger.

"How did you know?" Hermione demanded.

"Magic," Susan whispered mysteriously as she continued forward to the Hufflepuff table.

Hermione was not to be deterred and kept pace with Susan. "I've checked all my textbooks, and there's nothing in them that would enable somebody to predict what the Sorting Hat would do. Somehow, you managed to predict that both Neville and I would be Gryffindors."

"I would not expect advanced magic of that nature to be in a first-year textbook," Susan replied.

"I checked more than first-year textbooks," Hermione clarified.

"Call it dumb luck, then," Susan said.

"But when I told the Sorting Hat that you had predicted I would be sorted into Gryffindor, it said that you would know better than anyone," Hermione said, pushing the issue.

"The Sorting Hat recognizes my superior abilities," Susan said smoothly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I see that there is some breakfast waiting for me.

* * *

The first few days of school passed in a whirlwind. Susan was busier than she had expected, and squeezing visits with Harry into the jumble had proven difficult to coordinate. But, Susan was learning how to optimize her schedule. Later that week, Susan found herself with enough time for a long visit with Harry.

I think Hermione wants to strangle me," Susan informed Harry. "Not only did I correctly predict that she and Neville would be sorted into Gryffindor, but I also can perform every spell we're learning. The professors think I am as smart as she is."

 _Careful_ , Harry said slowly, using their mental link.

"Nobody will blame time travel," Susan said reassuringly as she finished arranging Harry's meals and potions. She sat down next to his bed. "I suppose you've been wanting me to start explaining everything."

 _Yes,_ Harry replied.

"Well, what is the last thing you remember from the alternate future?" Susan inquired.

 _Battle_ , Harry replied.

"I'll give you a quick overview of everything after the battle," Susan said.

 _Good._

"After the battle," Susan explained, "the Order attempted to treat your mind for all the magical damage you sustained. Unfortunately, treatments did not work …"

* * *

September and October passed quickly for Susan and Harry. Daily, sometimes after an early dinner in the Great Hall, Susan would use one secret passage or another and travel to Hogsmeade to care for Harry. Occasionally, she would sneak past the Hogwarts wards and into the Forbidden Forest so she could apparate.

After tidying up around the house and setting out Harry's next potions and meals, Susan would linger for about half an hour or so to tell Harry more about their alternate timeline. Sometimes, they would speculate about why it was they could communicate telepathically. But, those conversations never got far. Neither of them had any good explanations. And besides, Harry's ability to engage in conversation was limited, and Harry wanted to focus on other topics.

Though time passed quickly, progress came slowly. Harry could not absorb Susan's words as quickly as she could speak them. Often, Susan found herself repeating some of her stories because key details had fallen through the cracks of Harry's mind.

Fortunately, the mental link between Harry and Susan allowed Susan to work on explaining things even while she was at Hogwarts. This was often done while Susan's classmates drowsed in History of Magic or while Susan was otherwise in solitude.

Susan had originally expected to spend a lot of time chatting with Harry after curfew while in her bed before falling asleep each night. But, strangely, Susan found that as soon as her head hit her pillow each night, she would quickly fall into a deep sleep. Susan regarded this irony as unfortunate because, from Harry's reports of his daily activities, Susan had surmised that Harry was at his strongest and most alert during the nights. Indeed, Harry had become somewhat nocturnal.

Not long before Halloween, Susan had just emerged from the Whomping Willow and was entering the castle when she ran into Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom, who were on their way to the greenhouses.

"Hermione is looking for you," Hannah reported after she and Neville had greeted Susan.

"Oh?" Susan replied. "Did she say why?"

"She was hoping for some help on next week's Charms homework," Neville replied.

"She's probably in the library," Susan surmised, as the trio exchanged pleasantries. After chatting for a few moments and parting ways with Hannah and Neville, Susan good naturedly decided to seek Hermione out.

Susan was intrigued by Hermione's request because Susan's seemingly effortless skill with practical magic had resulted in Hermione making Susan the target of a one-sided competition in all things academic. Although Susan and Hermione belonged to the same group of friends and were on friendly terms, Hermione almost never asked Susan for help and regularly tried to outdo Susan in class.

Susan entered the library and found Hermione laboring over her Charms textbook.

"Good evening," Susan said as soon as she was within earshot.

"I'm glad you found me," Hermione responded, looking up from her book. "I've been having trouble with this spell and was hoping you could help me."

"I'm happy to help," Susan said slowly, still wondering why Hermione was suddenly uncompetitive.

"I know it might be strange to you that I would ask for help," Hermione said, seemingly able to read Susan's mind. "But I really want to be able to get this right in class, and it is more difficult than usual."

"You usually get it right in class," Susan pointed out.

Hermione blushed. "There's this boy in Gryffindor who is very … annoying. I just want to be able to quickly get this right in class … and … you know."

 _She can only be talking about Ron_ , Susan said to herself, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. Susan was dubious about what and how effective Hermione's strategy would be, but she was willing to help her young friend and perhaps bridge the divide that had been growing between them.

"What spell is it?" Susan asked.

"The levitation spell," Hermione said, pointing down to the page.

"Oh, that," Susan said. Reflexively, she drew her wand and cast it on one of Hermione's textbooks. The book immediately jumped into the air, danced around a bit in response to Susan's wand movements, and then fell back to its original position on the library table. It was not until Hermione gasped that Susan realized she may have forgotten to vocalize the appropriate incantation.

 _Oops_.

Hermione's exclamation of surprise confirmed Susan's fear. "You didn't even say the incantation!"

"Uh, right," Susan said. "The thing is, I learned this spell right after I got the textbook, and I have been using it a lot since then. It is a very useful spell. Before I realized it was possible, I was hardly having to say the spell. Why don't you give it a try, now?"

"I already have, and it isn't working," Hermione said. "I wanted to see you do it."

 _In other words, you don't want to let me see you fail_ , Susan realized. Opting to humor the fragile ego of the young witch, Susan again performed the levitation charm, this time carefully vocalizing the appropriate incantation.

Hermione then attempted the spell and succeeded at levitating her quill.

"Very good," Susan said to Hermione, who was looking quite pleased with herself.

"I guess it was just a matter of pronunciation," Hermione said.

"Yes," Susan said, remembering her own first attempts to learn the spell. "The pronunciation of that particular incantation is tricky for some reason."

* * *

As Halloween approached, Susan subconsciously decided which cookies she would be baking for the trick-or-treaters before she realized she did not precisely have access to trick-or-treaters. This realization left Susan feeling morose, but she soon overcame it by deciding to bake treats anyway. She was confident she could find somebody to eat them.

The next step was to figure out where to do the baking. The most obvious answer was #7 Drury Lane, but Susan was not sure she should risk leaving the castle grounds for such a long period of time.

The thought of perhaps there being a kitchen at Hogwarts she could use combined with the memory of her previous promise to the Sorting Hat prompted Susan to go looking for the castle's kitchens one Sunday.

A fourth-year Hufflepuff was able to direct Susan to a sixth-year Hufflepuff, whose seventh-year boyfriend, a prefect, was more than happy to show Susan to the kitchens and give her a speech about how the legacy of the House of Hufflepuff was intertwined with the castle kitchens and overall management of the castle's physical facilities.

Susan stroked his ego a bit by telling him she thought he had a promising future in the hospitality industry and hinting that he had inspired her to consider a similar career. As soon as he was gone, she let herself into the kitchen where she met a multitude of house elves eager to fulfill her every wish.

Within a minute of Susan explaining her desires, the house elves escorted her to a large kitchen counter piled high with butter, sugar, eggs, flour, and other ingredients. Delighted, Susan went to work. She was placing her first five batches of cookies into an industrial-sized oven when she realized that the house elves had been carefully surveying her technique.

Soon, Susan was sharing her tips and tricks for cookies with the house elves and receiving just as many in return. After Susan pulled her thirtieth batch of cookies out of the oven, the topic turned to dinner, and Susan was soon sucked into the house elves' preparations for dinner.

* * *

"I would say it is a tie between Granger and Bones," Professor Flitwick told his colleagues as they and most of the student body sat in or stood around the Great Hall waiting for dinner to appear. "If I had to pick, I would say that Granger is most likely to go the distance. There is practicality and skill with Bones, but her understanding of spells is rudimentary at best, even when she can perform them flawlessly."

"I would have to agree," Professor Sprout said, beaming at the thought that the head of Ravenclaw House was conceding that one of her Hufflepuffs was among the most preeminent in the current batch of first-years.

Snape rolled his eyes. He concurred with his colleagues' opinion of Bones, but he thought Granger to be annoying. He was spared being questioned on the topic when dinner appeared on the serving platters. It was nothing like the school had ever seen before.

"Have the house elves lost their collective minds?" he wondered aloud. "What in Merlin's name is this sorry excuse for a dinner?"

The answer came from Professor Dumbledore, whose blue eyes were twinkling madly. "Tacos, my dear boy. Tacos. Now, if you would be so kind, please pass that little red bottle."

* * *

On Halloween, Susan became a very popular individual amongst both the student body and random people in Hogsmeade. She spent the day walking around with a bottomless bag of cookies. Anybody she talked to was rewarded with one or two cookies.

Not wanting to miss any part of the Halloween feast, Susan arranged to visit Harry much earlier than normal. It was a good visit. Harry sampled each type of cookie Susan had baked, chewing with painstaking slowness as Susan chattered to him about everything that had happened since her visit the day before.

Susan was on her way to the Great Hall with Hannah when she heard from Neville about Hermione's disastrous attempt to flirt or otherwise interact with Ron Weasley.

"She let Ron know the correct pronunciation of that spell, all right," Neville chortled to Susan and Hannah. His face grew somber. "Unfortunately, after class, she overheard him talking about her, and it wasn't nice. Last I heard, she had retreated to one of the toilets."

"Oh dear," Susan sighed as they arrived in the Great Hall and she saw that Hermione was not present.

Susan did not think that Hermione would be late if she was coming. She turned to Hannah. "Would you save me a plate or two of the best dishes? I think I should go see her."

"Maybe I'll come, too," Hannah offered.

"I can take care of it," Susan said, winking. "You stay here and get my food."

Soon, Susan was on her way to the restroom where she had deduced Hermione would have fled after Charms class. The sound of Hermione's pathetic sobs confirmed Susan's deduction as soon as Susan was within a few feet of the bathroom's entrance. Susan walked in and called out. "Is that you, Hermione?"

Not waiting for an answer, Susan walked through the bathroom until she caught sight of Hermione sitting in one of the stalls. "I heard about Charms class," Susan said as she approached Hermione and proffered a cookie.

Hermione continued crying, but launched into the whole story of her awkward and failed attempt at socializing and how Muggle primary school had been a disaster and how things at Hogwarts were now turning out just as horribly. Susan listened patiently, offering Hermione as many cookies as she would accept. As soon as Hermione finished, Susan attempted to give Hermione some advice about socializing—particularly with boys who were young and idiotic.

Susan was in the midst of her heart-to-heart coaching with Hermione when they both heard a loud thumping coming from down the hall.

"Did you hear that? What was it?" Hermione asked.

"Umm … ," Susan said slowly as a disturbing memory suddenly came to the forefront of her mind. She reached out with her mind to Harry. He seemed to be drowsing. Insistently, Susan prodded Harry's mind until he was alert enough to listen to her. _Wasn't there a troll in the castle, Halloween, first year?_

 _Hermione. … … … Bathroom_ , Harry responded.

Susan took a deep breath as some more memories from her first year of Hogwarts surfaced from wherever they had been hiding. "I can handle this. It's just a troll," she muttered, attempting to reassure herself.

Hermione did not quite hear what Susan said. "What?" she asked.

"Let's move to this side of the restroom and be very quiet," Susan suggested, leading Hermione to the part of the restroom farthest from the entrance.

Unfortunately, the troll decided to poke his head into the restroom. Upon sighting two potential victims, he entered the restroom and began swinging his club over his head while roaring. Hermione started screaming and looking around for a place to take cover.

Susan, who was not particularly intimidated on account of her knowing she could kill the troll at any moment, drew her wand and tried to think of a situation-appropriate spell for taking down the troll, all while carefully tracking the troll's movements. She had no desire to answer awkward questions about how she had learned advanced, violent magic.

"Levitate the club!" Hermione yelled. "You can fight back with it."

"Oh, good point," Susan mused, already casting the spell.

The spell wrenched the club out of the troll's hands and levitated it in the air. Using magic to maneuver the club was awkward. Susan could not quite tell where her magic was gripping the club. Moreover, there was not a lot of space in the bathroom to maneuver or experiment.

The troll howled with frustration as Susan hit it several times with the club. After Susan's fifth hit, the troll grabbed the club. Once again, Susan was able to use the levitation spell to wrench it out of his hands, but only after a considerably longer struggle in which the troll hung onto the club with both hands.

Having finally gotten a better grasp on how to control the club with the levitation spell, Susan pulled the club back with the spell and let loose with a powerful swing. The club hit the troll on the back of the head, and the troll collapsed, unconscious.

As Susan took some deep breaths, she heard a voice calling out from the entrance to the bathroom, behind where the troll now lay unconscious.

"Are you okay?"

It was Neville.

"Yes," Susan called back. "Everything is fine, now."

Hermione came to Susan's side as Neville entered the bathroom and climbed over the troll. Following him were Hannah Abbott and Ron Weasley.

"Why aren't you at the feast?" Hermione asked them.

"Professor Quirrell ran into the feast and warned everybody about the troll in the castle," Neville answered as he stared at the troll and the damage it had caused from swinging its club around. "Professor Dumbledore ordered all students to return to their common rooms immediately."

"That's when I reminded Neville that you two were in the bathroom and unaware of the troll. He bravely said we should go warn you." Hannah said, beaming at Neville.

"And, I, uh, volunteered to come help," Ron said, suddenly blushing.

The arrival of Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape stifled further conversation between the students.

"What happened here?" Professor McGonagall demanded, her face blanching as she surveyed the damage and the unconscious troll.

Hermione was quick to answer. In vague terms she explained that she had been having an off day, was crying in the toilet, and had been rescued by Susan's timely arrival to commiserate. Professor McGonagall gaped as Hermione described Susan's battle with the troll and shook her head with annoyance at Neville, Hannah, and Ron's decision to go warn their friends without first talking to a professor. Professor Dumbledore said nothing, but his eyes conveyed that he was proud of the students' accomplishments.

"Five points to each of your houses for attempting to help another friend in need," Professor McGonagall declared, addressing Neville, Hannah, and Ron. "But, I must warn you that in the future, you should get help before you take on something like this alone."

"Yes, professor," the three mumbled, both embarrassed and pleased.

"As for you, Ms. Bones," Professor McGonagall continued, "from Ms. Granger's description, it sounds like you very bravely and very competently used a spell you recently learned to subdue the troll. It is the rare first-year student who has such skill and composure. I award your house fifty points."

Susan grinned, though she felt a bit dishonest. After all, she was technically an adult with some training for how to defend against opponents far deadlier and cleverer than a mere troll.

The professors sent the students on their way. At the part of the castle where the Hufflepuffs would have to take a different path than the Gryffindors, the group stopped and briefly discussed the experience before saying their farewells. Each of them, save perhaps Susan, was basking in the pleasure of a heightened sense of friendship.

Susan was grateful to see that these students were well on their way to being friends, but her mind was already elsewhere. _You're going to have to start warning me in advance about those sorts of incidents!_ she told Harry mentally.

* * *

Over the next week, Susan ensured that most of her conversations with Harry focused on any events that might happen during the rest of the school year. With painstaking slowness, Harry was able to fill her in on the upcoming incident with Professor Quirrell and the philosopher stone as well as many of the events leading up to it.

Armed with this new knowledge, Susan began to pay closer attention to her professors. Soon, Susan realized that they were watching her, too. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall frequently would call on her in class, apparently having concluded that she often knew the answers.

On one Friday, Professor Snape assigned the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first-years to brew one of the potions Susan regularly brewed for Harry. Without even having to look at the recipe written on the board, Susan had the water in her cauldron boiling and was deep into the ingredient preparation process long before even the Ravenclaw students had finished their preparations. Soon, she was the first to start adding ingredients to her cauldron.

Professor Snape walked up to Susan's work station and cleared his throat, breaking Susan's concentration.

"Yes?" Susan asked innocently as she added a small spoonful of dittany powder to the brew, causing the contents of the cauldron to foam for a second before resuming the standard boil.

Snape opened his mouth, but then closed it, as if he had decided not to say anything after all. He eyed Susan's cauldron. "Mind the flames," he said gruffly before moving on to harass some other student. Susan shrugged and proceeded on with the potion. Soon, she was done and could clean up her station at a relaxed pace.

It was not until everybody placed their potions on Professor Snape's desk that Susan realized there might be something wrong with her potion. Everybody else's potion had a thick consistency that took on the shade of a hardy yellow. But, Susan's rendering of the potion was bright yellow and so light that it was on the verge of dissolving into a gas.

Panicking, Susan began wondering if she had spent the past years dosing Harry with botched potions. Her eyes darted to the chalkboard where Snape had written the recipe. Susan read through the recipe rapidly and let out a sigh of relief. Hermione had given her a slightly different version of the potion recipe.

Relaxing, Susan realized that at worst, Professor Snape would dock her some points, leaving only a small dent in her first year Potions marks, which were meaningless. With her adult knowledge, Susan knew that it was only O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s that counted.

Relieved, Susan hastily departed from the potions classroom and thought no more of the matter.

* * *

"I've heard nothing," Mundungus Fletcher protested, addressing Headmaster Albus Dumbledore directly, but also nervously eying Alastor Moody, Severus Snape, and Minerva McGonagall, who were all assembled with Mundungus and Professor Dumbledore in the headmaster's office. "Nothing! Not even a whisper."

"Thank you, Mundungus," Albus Dumbledore said, sighing. He took a gold galleon from one his pockets and held it out. "Go treat yourself to a few nice dinners."

Mundungus pocketed the coin and made a hasty departure from the office.

"I don't trust him," Alastor said.

"He has no reason to lie to us about whether he has heard anything," Dumbledore defended.

"I mean I don't trust that he actually listened for any whispers about Harry Potter," the retired Auror grumbled.

"I promised to pay him a substantial sum of galleons for information that leads to Harry Potter," Dumbledore said. "He has every incentive."

"There probably are no whispers," Snape said. "None of the Slytherin students have even hinted that they know something, despite all of their gloating. None of my connections know anything. Clearly, whoever snatched the boy was working alone."

Discussion ensued, but those gathered were unable to reach any definitive conclusions other than that they needed to continue to solve the mystery of Harry Potter's disappearance.

* * *

 _Stop … … … following … … … him,_ Harry said to Susan, using their telepathic link.

" _I'm just making sure he's not doing anything bad_ ," Susan replied as she casually entered a hallway intersection and glanced down the cross-hall where Professor Quirrell was walking.

 _Stone … … … safe_ , Harry told Susan.

 _Are you absolutely sure?_ Susan asked.

Harry did not answer. Likely, he had already exhausted himself.

Feeling guilty for wasting Harry's energy on a topic they had already discussed extensively, Susan sighed and turned to head toward the library, but was startled to find Professor Snape standing behind her.

"Professor!" she said with a small gasp. "I didn't see you."

"I wanted to talk to you about the potion you turned in at the end of the last class session," Snape said.

Susan blinked as her mind raced. "Uh, yes … ," she said. "I remember that it was not the same color as any of the other potions. I must have … gotten distracted or made some mistake. I will work harder in future classes. I promise."

"You mistakenly brewed ingredients together that should be impossible to combine," Snape said, sounding slightly embarrassed. "I have been attempting to duplicate your potion."

"Oh."

"I want you to reproduce the potion for me," Snape said.

"But, why?" Susan asked, her heart sinking as she realized that her mistake was to result in her having to spend time with the detested potions master and having to prove that what she did was a fluke instead of her merely brewing a potion she was long-accustomed to brewing.

"The potion could be a breakthrough for the treatment of people who have suffered spell damage in their brains." Snape said. "Your potion combines two ingredients that healers have long wished to use in tandem. It is important that you show me what you did."

"All I can do is try," Susan said, sighed.

Susan succeeded. She even convinced Snape that it had all been an accident on her part. At least, he seemed to accept her explanation. It could have been that he was too preoccupied with Susan's recipe and its import to be suspicious of her.

Unfortunately, having to spend time brewing the potion for Snape set Susan behind schedule, and she paid her daily visit to Harry later in the evening. The visit itself was routine. But, on the way back to the castle via the Honeydukes tunnel, she found Hogwarts students coming the other way.

"Who's that?" a male voice demanded.

"Nobody," Susan said reflexively.

"We're the nobodies around here," a second, though similar-sounding, voice declared. "That makes you a somebody. But which somebody are you?"

"Uh, does it matter?" Susan asked.

"Well, maybe not," one of the voices admitted.

"Lumos," the other voice said.

Light shone from the spell caster's wand and revealed that Susan and the Weasley twins were standing near each other in the tunnel.

"You're a first-year!" Fred Weasley exclaimed.

"Yes," Susan admitted.

"Wicked," George said. "How did you discover this secret tunnel so quickly?"

"Family tradition," Susan said after a slight pause.

"Fortunately, nobody from your family is in charge at Hogwarts," one of the twins said. "We thought we were the only ones who knew about this."

"I haven't told anybody else," Susan said reassuringly.

"Good," Fred said.

There was a brief, awkward silence.

George broke it. "So, if you've been to Hogsmeade, why aren't you bringing something back?"

"What?" Susan asked.

"We go to buy candy and butterbeer," Fred said. "What were you doing in Hogsmeade tonight?"

"Umm, right," Susan said slowly, quickly trying to manufacture an excuse. "I have a … friend … who didn't come to Hogwarts. She wanted to, but couldn't."

"Oh, a squib, huh?" Fred said sympathetically.

"Yes!" Susan said, grabbing onto that. "Yes, she's a squib. I promised her that we would stay friends, and since she lives just right in Hogsmeade …"

"We understand," one of the twins said as they both nodded solemnly.

"Well, uh … see you around, I guess," Susan said brightly as she resumed her progress back to the castle.

"Yeah, see you …" one of the twins said.


	7. Chapter 6: Assassin

**FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter Six: Assassin**

As Christmas approached, Susan's holiday baking instincts shifted into high gear. While other students studied for their midterms or worked on term projects, Susan spent her time in the kitchens baking magnificent desserts that the house elves would serve with each night's dinner. Students and staff alike were delighted, though they never bothered to investigate the source of their good fortune. Even if they had, the house elves had guaranteed Susan's anonymity.

Despite their popularity, the desserts were not without controversy.

"The house elves are up to something," Snape warned Dumbledore one night as the staff and students sat at dinner.

"They are merely being extra festive this holiday season," Dumbledore replied, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. "Perhaps we should show gratitude and holiday cheer."

Snape ground his teeth in response to Dumbledore's attempt to brush off his concern. "Albus, you know that I am not worried about too many desserts. I'm worried about the distribution." He gestured toward the student tables. "Look at what the house elves have done!"

Dumbledore looked out at the student body. "I don't see any problems."

Snape sighed. "If you will observe more closely, you will see that the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor tables have been served dozens of cheesecakes in ten different flavors while the Slytherin table has been served only a large cauldron full of bland rice pudding."

"I don't recommend trying to psychoanalyze the house elves and their distribution schemes," Dumbledore said as he loaded three slices of cheesecake onto his plate and shoveled two scoops of rice pudding over the top. "I see enough cheesecake for every student, including the Slytherins, to have at least two slices. If your Slytherins cannot bring themselves to pay a visit to the other House tables, they probably do not deserve any cheesecake."

* * *

The end of the term and beginning of the holiday break brought Susan a welcome reprieve from the distraction of school. Without having to attend Hogwarts, Susan could spend more time in Hogsmeade with Harry while her aunt was at work.

Susan savored the time she spent at the house on Drury Lane. While there, Susan could be an adult and interact directly with Harry. Susan thrived on acting her own age and talking to Harry about things only they could remember.

There was also the added dimension that Susan and Harry were quickly building a relationship of sorts. Susan now looked back on the original timeline and wondered how she could possibly have overlooked Harry as a potential friend.

Early on the morning of Christmas Eve, Susan apparated to Drury Lane. She was pleasantly surprised and slightly ecstatic to find Harry dozing in an armchair instead of in lying in bed or on his way back to his bed. Additionally, the presence of a number of potion vials on a table next to the armchair suggested that Harry had figured out how to retrieve his own daily potion doses from the supply Susan had prepared.

Susan went to work in the kitchen. By noon, she had finished preparing a Christmas feast for hear and Harry. Once he woke up, Harry did not need any encouragement to partake of the feast. The happy couple shared their early Christmas dinner. Susan reminisced about Christmases in Texas and from before the second war against Voldemort, sometimes aloud, as Harry focused his limited abilities on eating.

"Tomorrow will be the first time I've spent Christmas day with my family in so many years," Susan reflected as she and Harry sat back and lingered at the table after eating. Her emotions on the subject were mixed, and Susan worked them out in her mind as Harry watched silently.

Eventually, Susan changed subjects. "I'll be bringing you some leftovers from tomorrow's dinner, though I daresay they won't be as good as this. Is there anything else you would like me to bring tomorrow?"

 _No … … … need._

Susan did not quite believe Harry, but she did not want to press him. She instead proceeded to comment on Harry's progress. "You're sitting in an armchair. You'll be up and about like normal any day now."

Through their mental connection, Susan felt Harry become more serious and focused.

 _Wean … … … me._

"What do you mean?" Susan asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

Harry turned his head and directed his gaze to the potions.

Susan now understood Harry's request. He wanted to be weaned from the potions.

"Are you sure?" Susan asked. "Before I got those doses into you, you could hardly control your mind."

 _Try … … … see._

"Okay," Susan said quietly, already beginning to feel a sense of dread.

* * *

Despite her dread, Susan threw herself fully into the weaning process. By the end of the holiday break, Susan had researched each potion with which she had been dosing Harry since their arrival in the past. Where there was no information on the potion itself, she had researched the ingredients. Based on the research, Susan had proceeded to hypothesize how weaning Harry could best be accomplished.

The first step in the process would be entirely removing two of the potions from Harry's regimen. Susan had concluded from her research that those two potions were likely having no effect on Harry, anyway.

On the Hogwarts Express, as it carried students back to Hogwarts, Susan enjoyed sitting in a compartment with Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott. The conversation with Neville and Hannah was a welcome distraction, but Susan was unable to completely stop herself from fretting about whether weaning Harry from all of the potions was possible.

Susan found a more effective distraction when Ron and Hermione met the train at Hogsmeade and greeted their friends. It seemed that Ron and Hermione had spent the holidays at Hogwarts and had made a discovery.

"The philosopher's stone is at Hogwarts, and we think Professor Quirrell is trying to steal it!" Ron said as soon as the group was proceeding toward the castle.

"Why would he want to steal it?" Hannah asked.

"Anybody would want to steal it," Hermione said airily. "After all, it does provide wealth and immortality to whoever owns it."

"Maybe Quirrell is working for You-Know-Who," Ron said darkly.

"If that is the case, we should find a way to stop him," Neville said bravely.

Susan's mind was racing. Harry had examined his memories of his first year at Hogwarts in the original timeline and concluded that the stone would be safe, even if he did nothing. He had also, seemingly incorrectly, predicted that none of the students would catch onto what was happening. Somehow, the students had caught on despite Harry's lack of involvement.

"We could warn Professor Dumbledore. I'm sure he would take care of the problem," Susan suggested.

"Yeah, let's tell Dumbledore," Hannah suggested.

"No! We can't do that," Ron said. "We're not entirely sure that we're right about Professor Quirrell. At this point, we only have suspicions. And, we don't want to tip anybody off. If we tell Professor Dumbledore without proof, he won't believe us. And then Quirrell will come for us."

"I still think you should talk to the Headmaster," Susan said.

"We'll keep that as an option," Hermione said. "At this point, we need proof."

"Once you have enough proof, you should go straight to Professor Dumbledore," Susan replied, once again keenly feeling the difference in maturity between herself and the other Hogwarts students.

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Susan cut two potions from Harry's daily dosage and was relieved to see that Harry improved slightly without suffering any adverse effects. Meanwhile, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Hannah were devoting every moment of their free time to stalking Professor Quirrell.

Susan had refused to participate, partly because she was too busy and partly because she wanted to discourage them from engaging in the activity. Her lack of enthusiasm for their activities had resulted in Susan being alienated from the group.

It was a topic of discussion between Susan and Harry one afternoon as she washed dishes and potion brewing implements at their house on Drury Lane. Harry was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table and listening. Despite Harry relying exclusively on his mental link with Susan to communicate, they looked at each other and interacted as if Harry was speaking with his mouth.

"I wonder if I should just go to Professor Dumbledore and tell him," Susan said. "But, I don't know that I want to do anything that would draw attention to myself," Susan said. "You've told me to avoid attracting unwanted attention, either directly or anonymously. The problem is that I'm afraid those children are going to catch Quirrell by surprise one night and get themselves killed."

Harry did not respond.

Susan could tell that he was thinking. So, she continued washing dishes while waiting for Harry to think about the situation.

Eventually, Harry responded.

 _Kill … … him._

Susan's eyes widened, and she dropped a soapy spoon on the floor. Blushing, she bent down to pick it up and rewash it. "Kill him? Isn't that a little extreme?"

Susan could tell that her shock had given Harry pause, but he had an answer already prepared.

 _Already … … dead._

"How is he already dead?" Susan asked.

Harry knew the answer, but reducing it to the number of words he could manage took some time.

 _Voldemort … … consume … … him._

Susan shrugged uncomfortably and returned her focus to the dishes. Eventually, she started thinking aloud. "His death is inevitable, he's trying to steal the philosopher's stone, and, in addition to bringing Voldemort back, he could end up killing some meddling children if he is not stopped," Susan mused.

 _Yes_ , Harry confirmed.

Susan finished wiping dry the last dish and joined Harry at the kitchen table. She was still working out this new idea in her mind. Although she was convinced that Quirrell needed to die sooner than later, she was still attempting to reassure herself that killing him was an appropriate thing to do.

Eventually, after some discussion with Harry and some rationalization, Susan came to grips with the idea.

"This is a war," Susan said to herself as much as to Harry. "Just because we're in the past doesn't mean we shouldn't fight and behave like it is a war."

 _Right._

"There is just one problem," Susan mused. "This could lead to me confronting Voldemort. I don't want to seem like a coward, Harry. But, I do not think I am up to a confrontation with a dark lord."

 _Be … … subtle,_ Harry suggested.

* * *

It took a while for Susan to come to grips with her new mission. Fortunately, she could reach out to Harry for reassurance and psychological conditioning regardless of their relative locations.

 _I was in the Order for all those years, but I've never killed anybody before,_ Susan told Harry through their mental link as she sat on her bed in her dorm at Hogwarts, staring at a nearby wall. _Well, except for you, and me, that one time. It was messy. I don't know that I want it like that._

 _Already_ … … _dead_ , Harry replied, speaking into her mind via their mental link.

 _How should I kill him, do you think?_

 _Poison_ , Harry suggested.

 _Poison has the benefit of being anonymous_ , Susan mused. _There will be quite an investigation when he turns up dead. The Ministry will get involved._

Harry had a suggestion. _Public … … death._

 _You mean make sure he dies in front of everybody? Why?_ Susan asked.

 _See … … Voldemort, … … blame … … Voldemort,_ Harry suggested.

* * *

Two separate concerns motivated Susan to devote much of her time over the next several weeks to the study of potions. She needed a poison, and she was constantly second guessing and rechecking her decisions about how to wean Harry off his potions. During this time, Hermione and Hannah would touch bases with Susan a few times each week, but they were largely devoted to working with Ron and Neville to investigate and stop Quirrell.

Quirrell was behaving suspiciously, but the quartet of first-years investigating him had yet to find solid proof that they could take to Professor Dumbledore.

Harry was not much help to Susan. While taking him off the first two potions had been completely uneventful, reducing doses on other potions had resulted in side effects. Sometimes, even the most miniscule reduction in a dose resulted in Harry spending as much as days in some sort of withdrawal. While in withdrawal, Harry would either sleep deeply or shut himself off from Susan and the outside world while his mind adjusted to functioning without the aid of the potions.

Susan was deeply concerned about Harry's withdrawals. She wanted to spend more time at the house to monitor Harry's condition as he ceased taking potions and went through withdrawal stages, but during the same time period, Susan fell ill with some sort of malaise that she could not seem to overcome.

Madam Pomfrey's best efforts to cure Susan fell short. In the end, the school nurse assured Susan that it was merely a non-life-threatening seasonal illness and that the only way to overcome it was to wait it out. Susan was relieved to learn that she had not come down with a life-threatening illness, but was not thrilled about having to waste time soldiering through it.

Ironically, though Harry was the one suffering withdrawals, Susan was suffering the most, though her suffering was primarily psychological and emotional. After having decided with Harry that Quirrell needed to die, Susan had come to the realization that she and Harry were actively fighting a war against Voldemort and that they were in the middle of the battlefield.

Not having Harry available to consult in case of an emergency made Susan nervous. It also left her feeling lonely. She had become accustomed to being able to chatter away to Harry using their mental connection, even if he did not yet have enough strength to respond to everything she told him.

The only reason Susan did not suggest to Harry that he should resume full potion doses was that it was clear that Harry's condition, after each withdrawal stage, was better than before.

Susan went down to Drury Lane on a Saturday morning for a long visit, made possible by Susan not feeling the effects of her seasonal illness. As it happened, Harry was in between potion dose reductions and the accompanying withdrawal stages.

"I've researched every major poison," Susan said, "and I am not seeing a way to brew or get my hands on any without leaving a pathway of clues straight to me. The Ministry strictly regulates these substances."

 _Try … substances … highly … toxic … unregulated_ , Harry suggested.

"If that stuff was deadly, it would be classified as poisons," Susan replied.

 _Mix … them._ Harry said.

* * *

Harry's idea about mixing unregulated toxic substances to create a poison proved to be a stroke of genius. Within a week, Susan had identified and gathered two substances, the mixture of which would create a dangerous reaction that would quickly kill Professor Quirrell. She stole a small amount of the first substance, a popular magical cleaner, from one of Filch's broom cupboards. The second substance was a type of mushroom.

Susan had initially dismissed the mushroom as a possibility because those sorts of things had to be specially ordered. But, while doing her Herbology homework late one night, she stumbled upon a paragraph in her textbook stating that the mushroom grew in the Forbidden Forest.

Susan resolved to visit the forest on her way to or from Harry's house on Drury Lane. The mushroom proved to be elusive. But, on her fourth trip to the Forbidden Forest, Susan found a shady hollow where several of the mushrooms were growing. She harvested them and began looking for opportunities to poison Professor Quirrell.

* * *

"I don't think baking a cake would be best," Susan mused one Sunday night as she finished cooking a fancy dinner for herself and Harry. She dished up the food and placed it on the kitchen table.

 _Thank … you._ Harry said, clearly admiring the meal as Susan walked around the table and took her seat.

"Of course, maybe if I baked a very small cake," Susan said before sticking a forkful of salad in her mouth.

Harry did not respond. He had taken a spoonful of rice pilaf and was bringing it up to his mouth with agonizing slowness.

Susan did not require a response from Harry on her musings, so she continued with them as she and Harry ate. "I see two problems with a cake. First, it is more evidence than I want to leave behind. Second, it would only take a little bit of cake to kill him. What if some poor soul decided to finish off the cake?"

 _Good … rice_ , Harry told Susan as he went for a second spoonful.

Susan chattered on amiably, evidently pleased that, after over a decade, she at last had somebody with whom she could freely speak on all matters that concerned her. The fact that Harry only provided one or two words for every hundred or so of hers did not seem to bother her. Even if he was not very responsive, she was confident that he was listening and understanding. Harry, too, seemed to enjoy Susan's company, considering that he spent most of his days alone when she was not there.

Although Harry was still eating, Susan decided to set to work on the dishes. Susan had moved to talking about Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Hannah. "Ron is being a pain," Susan confided. "He takes my lack of interest in their Professor Quirrell project personally. He wants to be the leader, and I am not buying into that," Susan said as she dropped a soapy fork in the drying rack.

 _Rinse … fork,_ Harry reminded Susan, mentally.

"Oh, thank you," Susan said. "I wouldn't want to leave a soap residue on the … ."

 _What?_ Harry asked as he chewed a chunk of braised beef.

"What if I poisoned Quirrell's utensils prior to dinner one night?" Susan asked.

* * *

Susan and Harry discussed the idea of poisoning Quirrell's dinner utensils at some length. In the end, they concluded that it was the best method. Susan declared that she would immediately begin researching spells that might make it possible for her to surreptitiously deliver the poison.

 _Excellent_ , Harry told Susan mentally as he eyed the various potion vials that constituted his evening dosages. With excruciating slowness, he began taking his doses while Susan watched and tried to think of whether she already knew of any spells that could help her poison Quirrell.

"If I get back to the castle, I can pick up a few books from the library," Susan mused. "The question is what kind of spells should I be trying?"

 _Try … banishing_ , Harry suggested as he leaned back in his chair with a sleepy smile.

Susan looked at the table in front of Harry. Seeing that he had left one of his potion doses untouched, Susan frowned. "Why didn't you take that potion?" she asked.

 _Don't … want … it_ , Harry replied.

"You'll go into withdrawal," Susan warned. "A bad withdrawal. The worst, I think. I was hoping we could save that potion for last and do it incrementally."

Harry did not respond. Instead, he smiled drowsily.

Susan shook her head, knowing that Harry could be stubborn. "Well, let's get you to bed then."

Soon, Harry was in bed, and Susan was back at the castle. Susan went straight to the library, where she began checking the catalog for any books on the topic of banishing spells. She had just checked the books out and was leaving the library when Hermione joined her.

"I haven't seen you around for several hours," Hermione said to Susan.

"It is a big castle," Susan said, using a non-committal tone of voice. "With big grounds. I like going for walks in the afternoon or evening."

"Yes, I've noticed," Hermione said.

They walked silently for a few moments before Susan decided she ought to work on building her friendship with Hermione and that this was as good an opportunity as any.

"So, how are things with Ron, Neville, and Hannah?" Susan inquired.

Hermione immediately broke into a monologue about everything they had done to investigate Quirrell and the philosopher's stone.

Susan had never been particularly interested in hearing about the children's efforts to determine what Quirrell was up to, but for some reason, Susan found the topic particularly tedious and tuned Hermione out. Her thoughts were focused on methods to kill Quirrell. Ever since leaving Harry's house in Hogsmeade, her mind had been on that topic.

Strangely, Susan's thoughts about killing Quirrell were so obsessive that not only did she tune Hermione out, but Susan forgot to monitor her surroundings. She was thus surprised and confused when she realized that Hermione was poking her and shaking her by the shoulders.

"Susan, is something wrong?" Hermione was asking. "Look into my eyes."

Susan looked at Hermione and blinked her eyes owlishly.

"Can you tell me your name or what day it is?" Hermione asked, sounding both suspicious and concerned.

Susan did not respond. Instead, she leaned back against a wall.

Anticipating Susan's imminent collapse, Hermione helped ease Susan into a sitting position on the floor and against the wall. Susan blinked. When she opened her eyes again, Hermione had been replaced by two or three professors looking down at her with concerned look on their faces. She blinked again, and Madam Pomfrey was now with the professors, except that maybe they were all in the hospital wing instead of the hallway. Susan thought that maybe she could hear the school nurse saying something about a malaise and seasonal illness.

* * *

Susan woke up in a cold sweat. The shock of being wet and cold caused her to audibly gasp as she tried to sit up and look at her surroundings. She was surprised to find herself in one of the beds in the Hogwarts hospital wing. Next to the bed, Aunt Amelia sat in a chair.

"Oh, Merlin," Amelia said, letting out a sigh of relief. "I was beginning to worry that you might not recover."

"W-what happened?" Susan asked looking around at her surroundings.

"You collapsed in a hallway," Amelia informed Susan. "Since then, for the past week, you've been either unconscious or in a delirium."

"A week? A delirium? What do you mean?" Susan asked, beginning to feel panicked.

Aunt Amelia sighed. "Madam Pomfrey determined that you came down with a case of forest fever. It is like the flu, but less well known. You spent the last week either lying in that bed unconscious or rambling about the strangest things."

"What kind of strange things?" Susan demanded.

Amelia shrugged. "You were talking to raccoons. Sometimes you demanded that they show themselves. Other times, you threatened to kill them."

"I see," Susan said faintly, her mind elsewhere. She was reaching out with her mind and insistently prodding Harry's mind, desperate to check on his status. There was no response, likely because he was in one of his withdrawal-induced naps. Despite not being able to speak with Harry, Susan could somehow sense that he was well. She gave up on trying to contact Harry and focused on her surroundings.

"Susan?"

"Yes?" Susan responded.

"I asked you whether you had some particular fear of raccoons," Amelia said.

"Oh, sorry. I'm just so confused and surprised to wake up like this," Susan explained. "As to raccoons, well, I don't know. It must be symbolic."

"I suppose so," Amelia said as Madam Pomfrey approached to look over Susan.

* * *

Ultimately, Madam Pomfrey released Susan from the hospital wing after an extra night of rest. Susan had then set out to catch up with some of her schoolwork and household chores at Harry's house. Fortunately, Harry had been all right because of the meal delivery service and his newfound ability to fetch his own potions from the supply Susan had brewed. Owing to his own sleepiness, he had not fully comprehended Susan's absence because the withdrawal period had matched the time period of Susan's illness perfectly.

Within a few days, Susan and Harry had settled into their regular routine, and Susan was able to direct her attention to her preparations for Quirrell's poisoning.

It took over two weeks for Susan to identify and master the spells necessary to poison Professor Quirrell's utensils surreptitiously. On the evening immediately following Harry coming out of a very minor withdrawal, Susan helped him to a fluffy armchair in the living room.

Susan then proceeded to set up a table and chair so that she could rehearse sitting at one of the house tables in the Great Hall. To mimic what she would be attempting to poison, she placed a spoon and goblet on the fireplace mantle so that Harry could critique her practice run.

"All right, I am walking into the Great Hall, well before dinner officially begins, and taking a seat," Susan explained to Harry. She then walked across the room and sat in the chair behind the table.

"At some point within the next few minutes, I am going to cast a spell that sends a tiny liquefied drop of each substance zooming toward the goblet and the spoon," Susan told Harry. "You watch and tell me if you see anything."

 _Okay_ , Harry said through the mental link.

Several minutes passed.

"I did it a minute ago," Susan finally announced.

 _Oh._

"This is good," Susan declared. "Now, I am going to tell you when I am going to do it, and you tell me if you even see it happen. Watch me."

"Okay, now." Susan cast the spell and sent another two tiny drops zooming toward the mantle. "Did you see?"

 _Saw. Nothing._ Harry declared.

"Now watch the spoon and goblet. Now," Susan said, casting the spell.

 _Saw. It._ Harry declared.

Susan sighed. "Okay, maybe I can do smaller drops multiple times."

After a couple of hours, Susan finally got it to the point where Harry could not perceive the drops. Exhausted, she moved to her own armchair and slumped in it. "I guess I may as well do the deed tomorrow," she said.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore smiled benignly at various Hogwarts students as he strolled into the Great Hall for dinner. He sat down at his chair up at the staff table and waited for the food and drink prepared by the house elves to appear on the plates and in the goblets and pitchers already set on the tables. He nodded politely as Professors Snape and Quirrell took their seats. Professor McGonagall arrived soon after and took her seat at his right.

"Albus, I have something I have been meaning to discuss with you," Professor McGonagall said.

'Oh, what is it?" Dumbledore asked as the meal appeared at six o'clock sharp. He picked up a fork.

McGonagall started into her discussion as Dumbledore began eating. "Over the past few weeks, I have noticed that—"

"He's choking!" somebody yelled from down the staff table.

Dumbledore whirled toward the sound. In consternation, he watched the spectacle of Professor Quirrell violently coughing and gasping as foam erupted from his mouth. Professor Sprout began slapping him on the back. Professor Snape grabbed her arm. "He's not choking. It's poison," he hissed.

"Well, do something!" Professor Sprout gasped.

"It's too late," Snape said as Professor Quirrell stopped coughing and slumped forward into his chair, his face landing on his dinner plate.

What happened next proved to be startling. Quirrell's corpse began smoldering. A cloud of black smoke gathered above the corpse and formed into the basic shape of a disembodied head. Howling, the black cloud whizzed out of the Great Hall just as Quirrell's corpse burst into flames, which quickly spread and began consuming the staff table.

Dumbledore blinked as students began to scream.

"Silence!" Dumbledore called out loudly. "Nobody leaves the room. Nobody enters the room. Nobody eats or drinks anything."

* * *

 _He's dead_ , Susan informed Harry, telepathically.

 _Act. Like. Everybody. Else._ Harry instructed.

Casually, Susan followed a group of Hufflepuff students to one of the far walls where many other students had gathered. Once the students had surmised from the behavior of the Hogwarts staff that Quirrell had died of poison, they had suddenly developed a desire to be as far away from the food and drink as possible. Susan was wishing that she had eaten more food before Quirrell had started displaying symptoms of the poisoning. Suddenly feeling sly, Susan sidled up to a prefect and made as if she was seeking comfort from an authority figure.

Susan was not able to remain with the prefect long. Hermione and Hannah came over to her. "Did you see what happened?" Hermione asked Susan.

"I think everybody did," Susan replied smartly.

"No, I mean before everybody knew something was wrong," Hermione said.

"Oh. Well, no, I don't typically watch the professors," Susan said.

"I think it has something to do with You-Know-Who," Hermione whispered. "Did you see that strange cloud come out of his corpse?"

"Yes, it seemed strange," Susan agreed.

Hermione looked as if she wanted to say more, but there were too many people, and they were all talking loudly. Further interest and excitement and interest erupted when Aurors appeared on the scene. Among them was Susan's aunt, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Susan!" Amelia exclaimed, coming over to Susan and hugging her. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Susan said.

Amelia seemed relieved. "I must speak with the Headmaster."

"Of course," Susan said.

Susan watched as her aunt, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour discussed the situation and poked at the smoldering remains of Professor Quirrell. After a long while, the Aurors began making their rounds and questioning the students. Scrimgeour came straight for Susan.

"Do you know anything?" he asked Susan.

"Nope," Susan replied.

"Did you see anything suspicious?"

"Nope."

"Okay, you can go about your business."

Susan left the Great Hall.


	8. Chapter 7: Diddling Dementors

A/N: Thank ye kindly for yer reviews.

 **FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter Seven: Diddling Dementors**

"What has the Ministry figured out?" Professor McGonagall asked as soon as she and Professor Snape were admitted to the Headmaster's office after the departure of Director Bones and various Ministry investigators.

"Madam Bones and the Aurors were unable to draw any conclusions," Professor Dumbledore said, politely proffering the bowl of lemon drops to McGonagall and Snape, who, as usual, both declined to partake as they sat down. "It did not help that Quirrell and any useful evidence ended up as a pile of ashes."

"I am confident that it was poison from what I observed," Snape said.

Dumbledore nodded, seeming to accept Snape's assessment.

"So, what is their next step?" McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "I suspect Minister Fudge will develop a personal interest. Given that Quirrell spent some time abroad recently, I have no doubt that Fudge will find some travel-related explanation of Quirrell's death, such as a rare disease. Perhaps even a fungus that causes instant death or combustion and is the subject of urban legends."

"That doesn't help us," McGonagall said. "It leaves a murderer loose in the halls of Hogwarts."

Dumbledore shrugged and shared a knowing look at Snape. "I doubt that anybody who would have taken the time to kill Professor Quirrell has an interest in killing a student

* * *

Professor Quirrell's absence during the final weeks of the school year brought Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Hannah together with Susan again because the group was no longer investigating Quirrell during the only free time Susan had to interact with them.

Ron seemed to be less than friendly toward Susan because of her refusal to play along with his leadership on the Quirrell surveillance. But, he appreciated the opportunity to regale Susan with stories of how they had followed Quirrell around until his unexpected demise and how they had been prepared to take matters into their own hands should Quirrell have gotten too close to his goal.

Susan did her best to play the part of a good sport. Although she was having various frictions with the younger versions of her old acquaintances, she knew they had the potential to grow up into excellent people with whom she would like to be on friendly terms.

It was difficult for Susan to be entirely sociable on the train ride home, though. Two weeks prior to the end of term, Harry had decided to go completely cold turkey despite Susan's most earnest pleas. Without his potions, he had sunken deep into a sleepy withdrawal from which he had not yet emerged.

For Susan, the stress was beginning to take a toll on her. Each time Harry went into withdrawal, Susan began to feel fatigued. Although Susan was unhappy about Harry's decision to go cold turkey and was feeling miserable for it, she was thrilled that there would be no further withdrawal stages.

 _Please let him recover soon_ , Susan begged silently as her friends chattered.

"What do you think, Susan?" Hermione asked.

Susan started from her reverie. "Sorry, what was the topic? I must have dozed off."

"We were talking about getting together this summer, maybe at one of our houses," Neville said.

"Oh," Susan said. "That sounds great. We may need to coordinate our schedules. I know that my aunt has a holiday planned, but I don't recall the dates."

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding vigorously. "We will need to find dates where we are all free."

"Keep me updated," Susan said, looking out the window and resuming her thoughts about Harry's health.

The summer began with Susan spending nearly every one of her spare moments during Amelia's work hours at Drury Lane. Normally, Susan would have relished her time at the house. But, Harry was in withdrawal and largely unconscious. Susan spent many long hours sitting at Harry's bedside when not taking frequent catnaps to relieve her stress. Eventually she would retreat to her aunt's house to keep up appearances.

At the end of the fourth week of Harry's long withdrawal, Susan arrived at the house on Drury Lane one morning to find Harry lying on the floor near the foot of the stairs.

"Harry!" Susan shrieked, running over and kneeling next to him.

 _I'm fine. Just a little bruised_ , Harry said to Susan through their mental link, his thoughts moving quickly and cogently for the first time since the alternate future where he had fallen in battle. _I was walking around upstairs just fine._

"Oh, Harry," Susan said as she took deep, calming breaths, "you could have been seriously injured. Did you fall down the stairs? What happened?"

 _I was already near the bottom when I fell down_ , Harry explained. _My mind at last feels fine, but I am having trouble moving around_.

"And, you don't seem to be able to speak with your voice," Susan observed.

 _I've tried, but nothing comes out of my mouth when I try to speak_ , Harry told Susan through their mental link.

Susan stood up. "Here, I'll help you up," she said.

Slowly, Harry stuck up his arm. Susan grabbed it and hoisted Harry to his feet.

"Let's get you some food," Susan said. "It's fortunate that you have come out of your withdrawal. My aunt and I are going on holiday, and we need to figure out what you're going to do about that."

* * *

 _This is ridiculous_ , Harry complained to Susan through their mental link. He was sitting in a wheelchair, and Susan was pushing the chair through the Gare d'Orsay in Paris. The train station looked like it should be busy with people boarding and disembarking from trains, but there were no trains, and the Muggles in the building were preoccupied with admiring French art. _I am perfectly capable of walking._

 _I know_ , Susan responded. _But, I need to get you on the train and then go back before Aunt Amelia and her friends leave the hotel. I don't have time to wait for you to inch your way across the platform and onto the train._

Harry frowned, but made no response. Susan had already won the argument the night before during dinner. Susan had told Amelia that she was unwell and wanted to stay at the hotel while Amelia and her friends toured Paris. Susan and Harry had then sneaked out of the hotel and treated themselves to a dinner cruise on a Bateau Mouche. Amelia and her friends had been none the wiser as to Susan's subterfuge.

Susan pushed Harry's wheelchair toward the entrance of what was officially Platform 3 1/8. Because it was now the only functioning train platform at the Gare d'Orsay, the magical community no longer bothered to refer to it by number.

Susan pushed Harry through the entrance and onto the platform. There, Harry and Susan found the magical world's version of the Orient Express under steam and preparing to carry witches and wizards on a tour of the magical villages and sites of Europe and Asia Minor.

 _This is going to be so fun!_ Susan told Harry mentally. _I mean, this is really the first time I have been on a holiday since … , well, since the first time I went on the Orient Express with my aunt in our original timeline._

 _I suppose it has been a long time_ , Harry responded as he reflected on the amount of time Susan had been looking after him and enduring the war against Lord Voldemort.

Susan found the conductor and presented the ticket Harry had purchased at the last minute. Harry and Susan were early enough that the conductor offered them his personal attention. With the conductor's help, Susan got Harry on the train where they checked Harry's private sleeping compartment and found that his luggage had safely arrived. Then, they set him up in one of the railroad cars next to a window that would give him a good view of the passing countryside.

* * *

With fascination, Harry watched from his seat on the train as his fellow travelers arrived on the platform, interacted, and eventually boarded the train. Having been preoccupied with his ongoing recovery, Harry had not realized how much he had missed watching people or being out in public without fear that some Death Eater squad was going to attack him.

Finally, he spotted Susan as she arrived with her aunt and a small group of witches who appeared to be the same age as Amelia. It was his understanding that the group consisted of old Hogwarts friends having something of a reunion trip. The older witches were all talking to each other excitedly while Susan maintained something of a distance between herself and the group. Although Susan believed the older women would welcome her into their group, it was her plan to fade away and spend time with Harry.

Her plan seemed to have worked, for within a few minutes of the Orient Express pulling out of the station, Susan appeared in the Harry's rail car and took the seat next to him. She lightly gripped Harry's wrist and grinned. "We're off!"

Harry smiled back, beginning to wonder why he had never really noticed Susan at Hogwarts in the original timeline.

"What are you thinking?" Susan asked.

 _How did we not become closer friends at Hogwarts?_ Harry asked.

"You were in Gryffindor, and I was in Hufflepuff," Susan explained. "There is not much inter-house unity or mixing, you know."

 _Still, I would like to think that I was smart enough to notice somebody like you in the crowd._ Harry pushed back.

"I wasn't very noticeable back then," Susan said.

 _Your hairstyle and fashion sense has changed_ , Harry admitted.

 _I'm not going to talk about the time travel to anybody_ , Susan told Harry mentally, _but I refuse to go back to looking like a dork and wearing fashions that, at least to me, are old_.

Harry smiled and tried to laugh, but for some reason, opening his mouth was the most he could manage for a laugh. Not wanting to focus on the problem, Harry settled on smiling some more and letting the warm sun shining through the window lull him into a nap.

* * *

When Harry woke up about forty minutes later, Susan was chatting amiably with two Asian witches who had taken seats near Harry and Susan. As soon as Susan saw that Harry was awake, she made introductions.

"Bob, this is Peggy Soo and her sister Mary. They're from China." Susan turned to Peggy and Mary. "I, of course, already told you about Bob. He cannot speak, but he can hear anything you say to him."

 _Bob?_ Harry asked.

 _I realized that maybe we should give you an alias during this trip_ , Susan told Harry as she carried on the conversation with Peggy and Mary.

Harry listened as Susan chatted with Peggy and Mary for another ten minutes. Finally, the two sisters left.

"They were nice," Susan observed as soon as Peggy and Mary had left the rail car.

 _Peggy was nice. Mary was unbearable, if you ask me_ , Harry said. _And her leather pants were stupid, too. They ought to be burned._

Susan grinned. _If you say so._

 _Why are you laughing?_ Harry asked.

 _I'm just happy_ , Susan replied, relishing that Harry was beginning to do more than merely survive.

The first afternoon and evening on the train passed quickly, and soon it was time for everybody to go to bed.

"Fortunately, it looks like my aunt is going to be up late with her friends," Susan observed as she led Harry, who was walking slowly, to his private sleeping compartment. "If she doesn't keep up that pattern, you may have to go to bed early or go alone."

 _I'll be fine either way_ , Harry said confidently.

"Key?" Susan asked when they arrived at Harry's door.

Harry extracted the key from his pocket. Susan took it and opened the compartment. While Harry brushed his teeth, Susan made sure that his bed was in order. When Harry came out from the small bathroom, he patiently endured Susan's ministrations as she reminded him that he had one of the stolen Bones wands and that he need only reach out to her mentally if he needed anything.

Eventually, Susan had literally tucked Harry into bed and had even tested everything to make sure he was not at risk of falling out.

 _I'll be fine_ , Harry said firmly.

Detecting Harry's attitude, Susan was quick to admit to herself that she was being a little overbearing. But, instead of being embarrassed, Susan suddenly felt mischievous. Grinning, she leaned forward and kissed Harry on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, dear."

Harry's reaction was slow in coming. It arrived after Susan was nearly to the compartment she was sharing with her aunt.

 _I guess you can tuck me in anytime you want_.

* * *

For Harry, it was a carefree vacation and celebration of the progress he had made since arriving in the past until one day when Harry and Susan were having tea in the dining car as the Orient Express slowly wound its way through Switzerland.

"We need to start thinking about the upcoming school year and the Chamber of Secrets," Susan told Harry.

 _I suppose so_ , Harry mentally communicated, somehow sounding glum. Instead of holding his teacup in the traditional manner, he had it gripped in both hands. _I have given a little bit of thought to the situation. Perhaps none of the Chamber of Secrets stuff will happen because I am not known to be at Hogwarts. In our future, I was the target._

Susan shook her head. _You gambled that no action would be necessary with the philosopher's stone. In the end, I had to poison Quirrell to prevent Ron, Hermione, and our other friends from provoking a confrontation between themselves and You-Know-Who._

 _I will endeavor to come up with a contingency plan, then,_ Harry sighed a he set down the teacup and reached out for a sandwich.

* * *

When the train moved into Hungary and made a stop for shopping and visits to tourist sites, there was an addition to the passenger list. It seemed that Gilderoy Lockhart was coming off his latest story-collecting expedition and wanted an audience to witness his triumphant return. The staff responsible for the entertainment aspect of the train ride were more than happy to oblige him. It certainly reduced their workload, after all.

"He's going to give a preview of his upcoming books during dinner," Susan told Harry, the tone of her voice betraying a certain amount of excitement.

 _You do realize he doesn't actually do what he claims, don't you? He finds people who did those things and memory charms them,_ Harry told Susan.

Susan frowned. "Are you sure?"

Harry briefly recounted how he had learned these things from Lockhart in the original timeline.

This considerably dampened Susan's enthusiasm for Lockhart's appearance. _Oh Harry, I wish we could tell everybody about everything you have done_.

 _You've done plenty, too_ , Harry observed.

* * *

In Bulgaria, all the Orient Express's passengers disembarked and took up lodgings at three small inns in the magical village. Unfortunately, Harry and Susan found themselves separated the next day when Amelia took Susan for some one-on-one shopping, sight-seeing, and a courtesy visit to the Bulgarian magical government. With there being so much Muggle unrest in the region, the Bulgarian magical government would be thankful for a friendly gesture from the British Ministry of Magic.

This left Harry to go on a tour of a nearby abandoned castle and its grounds with some of the other train passengers. The group included Gilderoy Lockhart and the Soo sisters. The tour guide was understanding of Harry's apparent physical condition and was as accommodating as possible.

Unfortunately, no accommodation could enable Harry to keep up with the group as they toured the upper levels of the castle. Good naturedly, Harry voicelessly gestured that he was okay to sit on a rock outside the castle and wait for that portion of the tour to conclude. He used the time to think about the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry became aware of a problem when Gilderoy Lockhart's girly screams broke through his reverie. Suddenly feeling cold, Harry glanced up to the location from where Lockhart's screams were coming and saw three Dementors circling the castle, high in the air. It looked like a few of the witches and wizards on the tour were attempting to cast spells to scare away the Dementors.

 _Oh, bother_ , Harry thought, slowly fumbling to find the wand Susan had given him from the trio of wands she had stolen upon their arrival in the past. Harry found the wand and slowly raised it skyward, aiming toward the Dementors. Taking a deep breath, Harry made his first attempt to cast a spell since traveling through time.

Fearing that his skills or magic might be crippled in the same way that some of his other abilities were crippled led Harry to strain as hard as he had ever strained to cast a spell. _Expecto Patronum!_ he shouted in his mind.

The result was impressive. From afar, it appeared that some sort of ethereal nuclear weapon had exploded. The Dementors were scared out of their minds and fled even before the magic had time to coalesce into a stag.

 _Um, Harry?_ came Susan's voice in Harry's mind.

 _Yes?_ Harry replied.

 _Is there something you would like to share with the class?_

 _Do I have to share right now?_ Harry asked, already aiming his wand at the entrance of the castle that the tour group had used.

 _The sooner the better_ , Susan said.

Harry did not respond because he was preoccupied. As Harry had expected, Gilderoy Lockhart burst from the castle, his wand drawn, looking for the person responsible for the heroics.

 _Obliviate_ , Harry silently cast, hitting Lockhart square in the forehead with a memory charm. Harry then cast a couple crude memory modification charms on Lockhart, not feeling one bit guilty because, ironically, both Harry and Lockhart would be getting exactly what they wanted.

* * *

The next night, at the hotel, Gilderoy Lockhart was more than happy to regale the Orient Express's passengers with a retelling of the events and a preview of his already half-written book on the subject— _Diddling with Dementors_. The passengers thought the book title strange and wondered about the possible innuendo, but Lockhart thought it entirely appropriate because Harry had put a little something extra in the charms he had cast upon Lockhart.

 _You're a fast thinker_ , Susan told Harry for the umpteenth time as she and Harry largely ignored Lockhart's speech. They were seated at a table near the back with Peggy and Mary Soo.

 _The plan just fell into place_ , Harry replied.

Peggy and Mary were discussing the incident and everything they and everyone else had done or not done to fight off the Dementors.

"I can't believe I just froze up like that and choked," Peggy said to Harry and Susan, interrupting their mental communications. "I wish I could go back and do it again."

Harry nodded sympathetically.

* * *

The Orient Express reached Istanbul where the passengers extensively toured the city and enjoyed their time. All too soon, it was time for the Orient Express to make the return journey to Paris.

By that time, Harry had completely focused his attention on the Chamber of Secrets problem and spent most of his days pondering the situation from wherever Susan parked him for the day. Susan was still enjoying herself, and despite wanting to spend time with Harry, had found herself drawn into her aunt's group of friends from time to time. Although she appeared to be a young girl, mentally, she was well into her thirties and got along well with the older women.

It was during this time that an owl found the train and delivered to Susan a letter from Hermione.

"She's invited Hannah, Neville, Ron, and I for a weekend stay," Susan told Harry, waving the letter at him. "Did something like that happen in the original timeline?"

 _We need to get our hands on the diary_ , Harry replied, apparently not listening very closely to Susan.

"What?" Susan said.

 _Sorry_ , Harry told Susan in her mind, _I was just thinking. What was the question?_

Susan explained the situation and asked Harry for his take.

 _I don't know what is going on. It was just Ron, Hermione, and I in the other timeline. I haven't a clue about how the friendship is supposed to play out now_ , Harry said.

"Well, I'll write to tell her that I'll gladly go for a weekend visit." Susan said. "I hope things don't get too childish, though."

* * *

Only two days later, another owl came with a letter in which Hermione awkwardly explained to Susan that Neville had been invited to Ron's house for the same weekend and that Hermione wondered if Susan could make it for a different weekend.

"Apparently, Ron is not overly interested in the females," Susan said with exasperation as she and Harry sat together in the observation car. "Poor Hermione must feel this exclusion keenly."

 _He was clueless until well after fourth year_ , Harry informed her, the expression on his face suddenly breaking into a wide smile.

"You seem cheerful," Susan observed, craning her neck to watch some of scenery as the Orient Express wound through the mountains.

 _I just had a hilarious idea about how to cope with the Chamber of Secrets_ , Harry said. _I almost hope we cannot find the diary soon enough to stop the Heir of Slytherin from terrorizing the school for a little while. But, being the mature adult that I am, I will of course make a diligent effort to wrap this up as efficiently as possible. Speaking of which, why don't you write Gringotts and tell them to get us some mandrakes?_

"I don't know what this diary is of which you keep referencing," Susan sighed.

 _I'll tell you later_ , Harry promised.

"Excellent," Susan said. "I'll write the bank for mandrakes and let Hermione know that I am free for nearly any weekend once we get back to England.

* * *

Harry and Susan's adventure on the Orient Express ended without further incident. Within a few days of getting home, further word about the weekend visit arrived. It seemed Neville had taken it upon himself to be the diplomat of the group. He had proposed to Ron that Ron come to his house for a weekend and that everybody else could come, too.

Upon Ron receiving this invitation and asking his parents for permission to go, Molly Weasley learned for the first time that Ron's circle of friends included three witches. Seeing that these witches could at the very least prove friendly to Ginny and possibly turn into marriage material for one or more of her sons, Molly took things into her own hands.

She personally contacted all the other parents or parent surrogates and suggested that not only should all the children come to the Burrow, but that they should also invite Luna Lovegood, who would be starting Hogwarts in a few short weeks.

This settled it, and the parents mutually decided that all the children would go to the Burrow on Monday morning, stay for a couple of days, and then go to Diagon Alley on Wednesday, where they would be able to meet up with their parents and do their shopping for school. Parents and children would then have one last weekend together before the school term started.

Molly's schedule fit perfectly into Harry's plans because that Wednesday happened to be the day that Gilderoy Lockhart would be signing copies of his new book, _Magical Me_. By Harry's calculation, it was the day that Lucius Malfoy would visit Diagon Alley with his son, Draco, and place the diary in Ginny Weasley's cauldron.

The Sunday prior to the weekend found Harry and Susan in the bathroom together at the house on Drury Lane. Thanks to a dye job, Harry was now a blonde.

"We should have done this before going on the Orient Express. It's a miracle nobody recognized you," Susan said as she produced a makeup kit. "I probably won't be able to put this stuff on you for Wednesday, so pay attention."

 _Yes, mother_ , Harry said cracking a smile.

Susan ignored the quip. "You take this brush, use this makeup, and brush it over your scar. Alternatively, maybe you could use this cream," Susan said as she began experimenting with the makeup and Harry's scar. Eventually, she and Harry developed a process that covered the scar without making Harry look too weird. Harry then demonstrated to Susan that he could do it on his own.

"All right, let's hope we can find the diary," Susan said as she placed the makeup in a location where Harry would be able to access it easily on his own.

* * *

Sitting at the Weasley dinner table, Susan did her best to eat while enduring the knowing gaze of Luna Lovegood. After dinner, while most of the Weasley family's guests played or watched an amateur Quidditch game, Susan and Luna had their one-on-one.

"I know what you did," Luna said. "I see his blood on your hands. And your blood. Everywhere. Gushing. Dripping."

"And yet, I am standing here before you," Susan said, struggling to maintain a neutral demeanor.

"No, you are both standing before me," Luna said.

"If that is so, then he, too, is alive," Susan replied.

"That is an immaterial exaggeration," Luna opined. "But, I think you will find that the benefit outweighs the price."

"If you say so," Susan replied.

"No, I said so."

"I take it you prefer semantics over colloquialism."

"Just remember one thing."

"What?" Susan asked.

Luna looked at Susan from behind serious eyes and spoke in an ominous tone of voice. "Bacon is the cheapest vegetable."


	9. Chapter 8: Slytherin's Nemesis

**FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter Eight: Slytherin's Nemesis**

Harry felt exhausted after apparating to Diagon Alley, slowly walking to Flourish and Blotts, and settling down into a corner chair with a book to study. He did not understand why he was tired because nothing he had done was physically strenuous. Fortunately, despite his exhaustion, Harry was able to resist the temptation to nod off by watching the bookstore staff prepare for the Lockhart book signing.

It was not long before customers were pouring into the store. Harry was astounded by the behavior of the witches who formed the majority of persons in the queue. It only got worse when Gilderoy Lockhart himself appeared. When Lockhart opened his mouth, the scene became unbearable. If Harry had not been at the bookstore for a purpose, he would have departed. The only bright spot for Harry was the crowd's reaction when he eagerly announced his forthcoming book, _Diddling with Dementors_.

 _Is everything going all right?_ Susan asked through the mental link.

 _This place is a madhouse_ , Harry replied. _No sign of the Malfoys, though_.

 _It is early yet_ , _if your memory is accurate_ , Susan reminded Harry. _We're just leaving the Burrow._

The time flew, and soon, Susan, Susan's aunt, the Weasleys, the Lovegoods, the Longbottoms, and the Grangers were all in Flourish and Blotts together. Susan did a remarkable job of ignoring Harry's presence, all while maintaining a running mental conversation with Harry.

It was only after Lockhart made his announcement about being appointed to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts that Narcissa Malfoy appeared. She quietly gathered Draco's required textbooks from the shelves and bought them. She then left the store without incident, but only after lingering for a couple of extra moments to watch the Lockhart spectacle. It was not clear whether Lockhart or the crowd intrigued her more.

 _Phase one just failed_ , Harry informed Susan over the mental link.

 _Well, stay around. Maybe Draco and his father will pay a separate visit to the store,_ Susan suggested.

 _Maybe_ , Harry said pessimistically to Susan as he tried to remember whether Draco had been buying his school books in the original timeline or whether Draco and his father had visited the store for another reason.

Having to follow her group, Susan soon walked out the door, bag of books in hand, leaving Harry to man the bookstore. Despite his pessimism, Harry stayed until closing, but was not rewarded with an appearance of the Malfoys or the diary, though he did see many familiar faces.

 _I'm headed home_ , Harry told Susan over the mental link.

 _I'll be there shortly_ , Susan promised. _I'll cook you a special dinner._

 _You don't need to cook me special dinners_ , Harry told her.

 _I know, but I've grown accustomed to my own cooking_ , Susan told him over the mental link. _I prefer to eat my own cooking, so humor me._

* * *

While his blonde dye job remained fresh, Harry took the opportunity to visit Diagon Alley on several occasions. Apart from one visit that took him to Gringotts and occupied the balance of his time that day, Harry found himself drawn to the bookshop on each visit. The bookshop provided a place for Harry to rest, and although he was not up to training or exercises, Harry still enjoyed sharpening his knowledge of magic as he thumbed through various bestsellers and novelty spell books.

Not all of Harry's research was whimsical. Systematically, Harry would dedicate some of his time to searching Flourish and Blotts for texts on spells he and Susan would need for executing various potential game plans for dealing with Slytherin's heir and the Chamber of Secrets during the upcoming school term.

Susan accompanied Harry on the trips to Diagon Alley that took place before the school term started. She would anxiously hover near Harry until he settled down somewhere. Once he was settled, she would wander, usually in the same establishment, always careful to maintain mental contact.

Harry was initially annoyed by Susan's tendency to hover near him constantly, but he eventually realized she had good reasons to be concerned for his welfare. And, as he thought about it more, he realized that she was giving him plenty of space. She had nagged him about coming up with a plan to cope with the Chamber of Secrets, but had kept her distance on that subject since then.

Once Harry got past his initial annoyance, he realized he did enjoy Susan's company and devotion to his wellbeing. Harry particularly enjoyed stopping off for ice cream or butterbeer with Susan before Harry went home for the night.

On the last night before the start of term, Harry and Susan found themselves eating ice cream on a bench along the main part of the alley.

"So, are you ready to tell me your grand plan for dealing with the Heir of Slytherin?" Susan asked.

Harry grinned. _I think you'll like it._

* * *

"I'm sure that this year will be better than last year," Hermione practically squealed as the Hogwarts Express got underway and the group of second-year friends settled into one of the train's compartments.

"Spare us," Ron sighed, sitting down as he tried to push back the dread of upcoming homework assignments and exams. "Besides, how can you beat watching evil Professor Quirrell get murdered?"

"We'll be learning new spells and new theories," Hermione rhapsodized.

Hannah grinned at Susan. "I'm glad to be able to see all my school friends. I'd be okay if we didn't have classes."

Susan shared a smile with Hannah, silently agreeing that she would be just as happy to not go to class. For Susan, who had already attended all of the classes in the original timeline, Hogwarts classes were particularly boring.

Neville had a happy smile on his face. He had little to say, but he was enjoying being with the group and listening to them interact.

"So, Susan," Hermione said suddenly, "it was about this time last year you made some bold predictions that turned out to be accurate. I recall the Sorting Hat saying that you might have something of a talent. Would you like to continue your tradition of predicting the future?"

Susan could not resist. With a whimsical smile, she stuck out her index finger and touched the tip of Hermione's nose. Only Hermione's curiosity prevented the young witch from slapping Susan's hand away.

Susan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I see great danger this year," she whispered. "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes."

"What is it?" Ron demanded, leaning forward in his chair. "Will we be involved?"

Susan, still touching Hermione's nose and squeezing her eyes shut, answered: "In the hallways. And bathrooms. It would be better if we avoided any involvement." Susan then opened her eyes and took her finger off Hermione's nose.

"It will take the entire year before we can be sure whether you're right," Hermione said, a suspicious frown on her face as she rubbed her nose.

"Indeed," Susan said. "Is that not the fortuneteller's art?"

"Touch my nose!" Ron demanded. "You might be able to see more information."

Susan grinned and placed her finger on the tip of Ron's nose as Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well?" Ron asked.

"I'm not seeing much," Susan responded. "But maybe that's because I don't know the question. What do you want to know?"

"Uh, how is the great wicked thing in the hallways and bathrooms to be defeated?" Ron asked.

"I see it!" Susan exclaimed breathlessly. "A hero! He's going to be strong, and fast, and fresh from the fight."

"Who is the hero?" Ron asked.

"A man after midnight," Susan said deadpan, though she was on the verge of giggling hysterically.

"Say," Neville said suddenly, as if the entire byplay had slipped past him unnoticed, "where did those two girls from this summer at the Burrow go? Aren't they starting Hogwarts?"

"Oh, my sister and her friend, Luna," Ron responded as Susan dropped her finger from his nose. "I think they got their own compartment."

Ron's reply suddenly reminded Susan that she had a job. Harry wanted her to patrol the Hogwarts Express for any sign of the diary. She would also be responsible for keeping a lookout as the school year commenced—perhaps even searching classmates' possessions if she got the chance.

"I need to use the toilet," Susan mumbled, standing up and leaving the compartment.

* * *

From a high window overlooking the Hogwarts grounds, Professors Dumbledore and Snape watched as students disembarked from the thestral-drawn carriages and entered the castle.

"One of them may be a killer," Snape reminded Dumbledore.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore responded. "Or perhaps Voldemort's magic merely corroded Quirrell, coincidentally causing him to die when he did. I would rather that we focus our efforts on finding Harry, seeing as Voldemort is out there and attempting to find a way to come back."

"Of course," Snape said, glaring down suspiciously at the students.

* * *

A month and a half passed. Susan continued to visit Harry daily, even though her visits were no longer necessary for Harry's welfare. One such visit found Harry slowly and methodically washing dishes and placing them in the drying rack as Susan paced up and down the floor of the kitchen at the house on Drury Lane.

"I can't find it," Susan said. "I've looked everywhere. I've watched the students who seem friendless or lonely. I've even brought the topic of diary writing up in casual conversations to see if somebody might mention that they write in a diary or know somebody who does."

 _Maybe it isn't at Hogwarts,_ Harry told Susan, using the mental link and smiling lackadaisically. After a moment, though, his smile turned into a frown. _Although it might be better if it is at Hogwarts. One less thing to hunt down._

"What do you mean?" Susan asked.

 _I'll tell you later, sometime_ , Harry said. _Let's worry about the diary. Halloween is coming. If the Heir of Slytherin is to strike, he won't want to miss the Halloween opportunity. We need to be prepared to carry out our plan._

* * *

On the night before Halloween, shortly before curfew, Susan crept into the empty Great Hall. From her satchel, she withdrew a small box, wrapped in black paper and topped with a yellow bow. Harry had spent days preparing the package and contents with a little help from Susan during her daily visits to Drury Lane. Watching to make sure she was alone and unseen, Susan concealed the box beneath one of the tables.

 _It's in the Great Hall_ , Susan told Harry over the mental link as she briskly exited the room and checked to ensure that nobody had seen her.

 _Good_ , Harry said. _I set the spell to activate shortly before breakfast is served. Now get to the hallway outside of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom_.

* * *

"Hello, what's this?" Ron asked as he, Neville, and Hermione sat down to breakfast. He picked up a yellow card that was sitting next to his plate.

"Everybody at this table got one," Neville said, holding up his own yellow card.

"No, everybody in the school got one," Hermione corrected, gesturing to the other House tables where other students were looking curiously at their own cards or at empty places with as-of-yet unclaimed cards. Even the professors had cards.

Ron, Hermione, and Neville compared their cards to each other. The message on each was identical: _You won't want to miss the Halloween Feast!_ Beneath the script was the unmistakable silhouette of the Hufflepuff badger.

"I don't get it," Ron said dumbly.

"Nobody does." Hermione said as confused murmurs began sounding throughout the room.

* * *

"Do you think we should call in the Aurors?" Professor McGonagall asked as she turned the yellow card over in her hand. "Is this a threat for a repeat performance of Quirrell's demise?"

"We'll be on the lookout," Dumbledore responded. "I think that forewarned, the staff will be able to handle it."

"Some of the staff," McGonagall said, stealing a glance toward the idiot known as Gilderoy Lockhart. He was telling Professor Sprout that yellow was a magnificent color for greeting cards but that this year, he was using lavender for his closest acquaintances.

* * *

By evening, the anticipation for the Halloween Feast was palpable. Faced with a mutiny in the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey allowed her conscious patients to go to the feast and see what might happen. As the feast commenced, an air of expectation hovered over the student body. By the end of the feast, nothing had happened.

Soon, the Weasley twins were being blamed for pulling a cruel prank. Their only defense was that they would have put a Gryffindor lion on the cards instead of a badger.

The feast ended, and the students dispersed. Just as in the alternate future, a large group of them proceeded through the hallway that passed Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. There, they found the Heir of Slytherin's handiwork. Filch's cat, petrified, but not dead, hung from the torch bracket. In red paint, or possibly blood, there was writing:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.

Susan, who had given herself a good reason to be with the group of students that would pass through that part of the castle, maintained a neutral facial expression as she watched the distraught students and shocked professors.

Filch's cries and accusations were escalating the tension. While Professor Dumbledore examined the scene of the crime, Susan grasped her wand inside her robes, and, without drawing it, cast the spell to activate last night's handiwork.

On the wall opposite of the Heir of Slytherin's message, another message, written in black, began appearing in a shower of fiery, yellow sparks, letter by letter, as if it was being written in real time by an invisible being.

Mouths hanging open, students and professors alike watched as a response to Slytherin's ominous threat took shape.

SLYTHERIN, LEAVE AND TAKE YOUR BASILISK WITH YOU—OR FACE MY WRATH.

Then, instead of appearing letter-by-letter as the message had done, the attribution appeared in one big burst of sparks.

HUFFLEPUFF

Pandemonium broke out with students panicking and professors ordering students to their dormitories—but not before a certain professor had her say.

"Fifty points to Hufflepuff!" Professor Sprout yelled.

* * *

Snape glared sullenly at Professor Sprout while Professor Dumbledore paced behind his desk. After the students had returned to their dormitories, Dumbledore had immediately called for a meeting between himself and all the heads of the Hogwarts houses.

"Surely the Chamber of Secrets is not real," Professor McGonagall said.

Dumbledore shrugged. "It doesn't have to be real. Anybody can dub themselves 'Heir of Slytherin' and start attacking Muggleborn students."

"At least somebody is fighting back," Professor Sprout said.

"But are they?" Professor Flitwick asked. "This so-called Hufflepuff clearly knew that the attack was going to occur. Although he or she sent out those cards—a move calculated to keep everybody out of the way during the feast—he or she did nothing to stop the attack or, better, forewarn us."

So, either we have a multiple-personality terrorist or we have two separate persons with unclear agendas," Dumbledore mused as he took his seat. "At the very least, we must implement some safety precautions"

* * *

By lunch the next day, the lore of the Heir of Slytherin and the Chamber of Secrets had spread throughout the school, passed from student to student through breathless whispers. By the day following that, the lore of the Heir of Hufflepuff had also began to spread. This was quite a feat, considering that there really was no lore whatsoever about Hufflepuff.

Gilderoy Lockhart was partially to thank for the spread of Hufflepuff's newfound notoriety. In Susan's next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Lockhart showed up to class in spectacular black and yellow robes.

"Do you know anything about the Heir of Hufflepuff?" Ernie MacMillan asked Lockhart after being called on in due course.

"I'm not sure I should share everything I know, for your own safety," Lockhart said, playing it coy. "But, what I can safely tell you is that Helga Hufflepuff was a solid witch who controlled everything that happened in the castle. Some thought her not so sly as Slytherin or not so knowledgeable as Ravenclaw, but Hufflepuff was a power with which to be reckoned. I don't think the Heir of Slytherin has much of a chance if the Heir of Hufflepuff is here to manage the castle."

"But, if Slytherin has a Chamber of Secrets, shouldn't Hufflepuff have something like that, too?" Padma Patil asked. "Surely all the founders had their own special places and magical objects."

Lockhart, who had poured himself a glass of water and was taking a sip from it, winked at the class.

Whimsy seized Susan, and her hand shot up. Lockhart nodded in her direction as he sipped from his glass of water.

"What I heard," Susan said, weaving a tale in her mind as she spoke, "was that Hufflepuff had something called the Well of Souls."

Suddenly, the entire class's attention was riveted on Susan.

"The story went that Hufflepuff discovered an everlasting spring of magical water on the Hogwarts premises that could give one power from the souls of witches and wizards who had passed on to the great beyond. So, she imported stone and other magical artifacts from the lost Egyptian city of Tanis to build a secret Well of Souls to store the water from the spring, house magical artifacts from Egypt, and protect the spring of magical water from the forces of evil. It is said that so long as Hufflepuff drank water from the spring every hour, she would always be protected from anybody who threatened the castle."

The students, having been scared by Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, were eager to buy into Hufflepuff's Well of Souls. And, as they turned to Lockhart to see what his reaction was to this story, they could not help noticing that he was holding a glass of water.

Lockhart could see opportunity knocking. He drained the glass of water in one gulp and then addressed the class. "The Hufflepuffs and I are keeping this school safe," Lockhart said, sharing solemn nods with some of Susan's housemates while the Ravenclaw students looked on sullenly. "None of you need fear as long as there is a Hufflepuff still breathing."

* * *

Susan was sitting in the library and had just finished scribbling out a simplistic essay on charms when Hermione arrived. Fuming, the young Gryffindor dropped a pile of books on the table and sat down sulkily.

"Boys getting you down?" Susan inquired as she put away her charms materials and pulled out her transfiguration textbook.

"No, the Ravenclaws," Hermione groused.

"What are they doing?" Susan asked.

"The Ravenclaws have gone and organized themselves into groups to research every aspect of the Chamber of Secrets, basilisks, and how to counter the effects of whatever happened to Filch's cat," Hermione informed Susan. "I volunteered to join one of their groups, but they won't have me because I'm not a so-called Disciple of Ravenclaw."

Susan could not restrain herself and began laughing.

"This isn't funny," Hermione exclaimed. "Don't they realize that they need to cooperate for the sake of the school?"

"I'm afraid the attitude of the Hufflepuffs has created a desire for them to want to feel like they are also contributing to the safety of the school," Susan said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Aside from one of them writing a threatening message on the wall, the Hufflepuffs have done nothing but conspicuously drink water. I want to do something, and the only people doing something are the Ravenclaws."

"Maybe you could help the Gryffindors make their own contribution," Susan suggested slyly. "Studying everything there is to know about the Chamber and the basilisk is one thing. Application is another. Perhaps the Gryffindors could study up on how to defend themselves and others. It will be hard enough for the Heir of Hufflepuff to defend herself against Slytherin's heir, let alone defend multiple others.

Hermione was already out of her chair, eagerly planning a revolution. Suddenly a suspicious expression formed on her face. "You said the Heir of Hufflepuff would have to defend _herself_."

"Or himself," Susan said, winking. "But why assume the heir is a wizard when it could be a witch?"

"Good point," Hermione said, squaring her shoulders and walking out of the library.

* * *

Harry was slowly pacing up and down the hallway of his house on Drury Lane, practicing his walking skills. Every so often, he would stop in front of a mirror or window and study his reflection.

"What are you doing?" Susan asked from where she was lying on a couch.

 _Trying to walk and talk_ , Harry responded mentally.

"Just give it time. It will all come back," Susan said optimistically.

 _I don't have time. If I can't talk, I can't open the Chamber,_ Harry informed Susan.

* * *

On one Saturday morning in early December, Susan found a good portion of the Gryffindor students in the Great Hall, disjointedly practicing all sorts of Defense Against the Dark Arts spells.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked after observing the Gryffindors for a while.

"But we're Gryffindors and you're a Hufflepuff," a sixth-year student said.

"And we're all Hogwarts students with a common enemy," Susan said.

"She's right," Hermione called out.

Eventually, it was settled that Susan could train with the Gryffindors, but she could not use the training to brag about being a Hufflepuff. This was acceptable to Susan, and, soon, she was crossing wands with Hermione in a duel.

By the end of the training session, Susan felt like she had made some progress on touching up her limited defense skills. The Gryffindors were impressed enough with her stunner that they let Susan have one of the mirror kits that they, on the advice of the Ravenclaws, had put together to help Gryffindors in their quest to safely guard students in the hallways.

Susan had no desire to be the one peeping into mirrors and possibly getting petrified, but she started encouraging other members of the Hufflepuff house to team up with the Gryffindors. Soon, the Hufflepuffs were earning some respect around the castle as they and the Gryffindors arranged to help escort younger students between locations in groups.

The safety precautions were either effective or superfluous. Despite the Heir of Slytherin's threat, he had attacked nobody by the time Christmas arrived, which left Harry and Susan to wonder just what the Heir of Slytherin was planning.


	10. Chapter 9: Forty-Third

**FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter Nine: Forty-Third**

Susan went home to Aunt Amelia's house for Christmas. Amelia, of course, had to maintain a normal work schedule despite Susan being home from Hogwarts. While Amelia was at work, Susan went to Drury Lane and dyed Harry's hair as she had done just prior to the start of the term. After Harry used some makeup to cover his scar, he and Susan made their way to Diagon Alley to do some Christmas shopping.

They separated while Susan went to buy Harry a gift. Harry went to make a withdrawal from the bank so that he could buy Susan a gift and some other items he had been vaguely wanting to purchase.

After buying Harry an extensive sampler collection of hot cocoa powders and two mugs to go with it, Susan set out to find Harry. _Where are you?_ she asked over the mental link as she made her way out into the busy thoroughfare.

 _Quidditch shop_ , Harry replied.

In Diagon Alley's Quidditch shop, Susan found Harry eyeing four used Cleansweeps while a salesman, apparently on commission, looked on anxiously.

"Surely you can afford something new," Susan said as she sidled up and eyed the broomsticks skeptically.

"He can't talk," the salesman told Susan.

"That doesn't excuse him," Susan said. She looked at Harry. "Cleansweeps? Really? Even I know they aren't very good."

 _I'll buy new when the Firebolt is available_ , Harry told Susan as he finally picked out a broom and arranged to buy it.

Harry and Susan were just leaving the broom shop together when they were spotted.

"Susan!" Ginny Weasley called out from somewhere behind the two of them.

Susan grimaced.

 _I will just keep walking as if we were not together_ , Harry told her confidently.

Susan put a smile on her face and turned around to greet Ginny Weasley as Harry casually continued down the street alone.

Ginny was shopping in Diagon Alley with her mother. Ginny's mother was concerned to hear that Susan was alone. Soon, Susan found herself being escorted to the Leaky Cauldron for a quick snack as the motherly Mrs. Weasley talked on and Ginny beamed at Susan.

 _She doesn't seem like she is possessed by You-Know-Who_ , Susan told Harry while pretending to take an active interest in the conversation she was having with the Weasley females.

 _Great_ , Harry said. _I'm seeing if I can pick up a used wand or two. Using your family wands is not ideal, seeing as they can be traced._

Beginning to feel guilty for ignoring the Weasleys, Susan tuned back into the conversation.

"Now that the Ministry is scaling back its efforts to search for Harry Potter, they're having my husband resume and intensify the raids for Dark objects and misused Muggle artifacts. They think some of the Death Eaters from the former war might be hanging onto them. Then of course, there was that raid in Diagon Alley right after Harry's disappearance.

Susan suddenly smiled as she remembered something from a long discussion with Harry about the details he remembered from his alternate future.

 _Harry, don't the Malfoys have a stash somewhere in their manor?_ Susan asked.

 _As in dark artifacts? Yeah, under their drawing room_. Harry replied absently. _Maybe we ought to pass that tidbit on to Mr. Weasley._

"I've got a tip for your husband," Susan said. "Just don't let him know it came from me."

"Oh?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

* * *

Christmas came and went. Harry was pleased with the hot cocoa and mugs. Susan was surprised and thrilled by a cookbook and television set, which would be set up at Drury Lane so that she could watch Muggle cooking shows and other TV shows, the reruns of which she had enjoyed while in the alternate future.

Harry and Susan were sitting on their couch while watching TV and sipping morning cups of cocoa when an owl delivered the _Daily Prophet_. The newspaper announced that Lucius Malfoy had been "detained" by the Ministry after the discovery of numerous dark artifacts in a secret room in Malfoy Manor. The investigation was ongoing and law enforcement officials had no further comment.

 _I wonder if he bothered to sell any of them this time around?_ Harry mused. _It does not sound like Mr. Weasley was doing his raids like he was in the alternate future._

"What amazes me is how your absence changes some things so dramatically while having no effect on others," Susan said.

Harry shrugged. _Hopefully, the ultimate result is better this time around._

* * *

Susan was disappointed to note, as school resumed, that a lack of attacks from the Heir of Slytherin, coupled with a holiday, had resulted in students becoming less concerned about the danger. By day, the students were completely unconcerned. Fortunately, by night, they at least avoided wandering the castle and used mirrors to check corners when they did. In a perverse way, Susan wished there were attacks. That way, she and Harry would be able to have some idea of what was going on.

Come mid-January, Harry had decided they needed to put some sort of warning signal on the entrance to the Chamber as a way of detecting whether the Heir was accessing it or not. Harry researched the spell and taught it to Susan, who decided to put the spell in place while most of the castle was eating dinner one night.

Susan ate her dinner rapidly, watching with some amusement as Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, whose father was still in trouble, but not yet in Azkaban, glared malevolently at each other. After finishing, Susan strode briskly from the Great Hall and pulled a mirror out of one of her pockets.

As quickly as possible, Susan made her way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, checking around each corner with the mirror and even checking into the bathroom with the mirror. Staying quiet so as not to disturb Myrtle, Susan cast the spell on the entrance to the Chamber. The spell sapped a good deal of Susan's strength. Breathing heavily, she exited the bathroom and made her way to her dorm, notifying Harry on the way that she had been successful.

* * *

Life at Hogwarts continued to be uneventful until Valentine's Day. In the early hours of the morning of the fourteenth of February, several loud explosions, accompanied by the barking of what seemed to be twenty invisible dogs roving the castle, woke up every single person at Hogwarts.

 _The trap has been triggered_ , Susan told Harry as soon as several minutes of her telepathic prodding brought him out of a deep sleep.

 _Interesting_ , Harry mentally communicated to Susan.

The Hogwarts students were confused. They became scared when the professors came to the dorms and told their students to stay put until further word. Many of the Hufflepuffs ended up going to their common room and huddling together in blankets. Susan went back to bed.

When she woke, she discovered that the professors had given the all clear and that breakfast was proceeding as normal in the Great Hall. At breakfast, Susan learned that the Heir of Slytherin had left another message on the wall. The message, and its implications, occupied all conversation despite Gilderoy Lockhart's ridiculous Valentine's Day arrangements for decorations and singing trolls.

"And what did the message say?" Susan asked Hannah.

Hannah was only too happy to share news with somebody who had not yet heard or bothered to go view the message. Apparently, the message had read as follows:

HUFFLEPUFF—DID YOU REALLY THINK YOUR BOOBY TRAP WOULD KILL ME? YOU WILL DIE FOR YOUR INSOLENCE, EVEN IF YOU ARE A PUREBLOOD.

Susan passed the message to Harry. By the time breakfast ended, Harry had come up with a response for Susan to put on the wall at her first opportunity. On the pretext of belatedly viewing the message, Susan finished breakfast quickly and made her way to corridor. There, as soon as nobody was looking, she rapidly cast the spells that would cause Hufflepuff's response to appear in much a similar way as it had on Halloween. The difference was that Susan set it to appear at a certain time instead of on command.

The response began appearing, letter by letter, as students left their final classes for the day and went to dinner.

SLYTHERIN, YOU SILLY NIFFLER, THE TRAP WASN'T DESIGNED TO KILL YOU.

Professor Sprout awarded Hufflepuff another fifty points, and dinner that night proceeded with more students than usual gathering at the same time instead of straggling in and out as was common during non-feast dinners. Speculation about what was going on between the Heirs of Hufflepuff and Slytherin abounded, and students laughed hysterically at the thought of the Heir of Hufflepuff insulting the Heir of Slytherin.

Despite the laughter, there was also an atmosphere of fear and caution. The professors, fearing the response that Hufflepuff's message might provoke, encouraged students to return directly to their dorms after dinner and do their homework there. Without any sign of protest, all the students of Hogwarts were in their dorms by half past seven.

It seemed the students and professors need not have feared. Slytherin's response came well over a week later and without any violence. Students on their way to breakfast discovered it.

HUFFLEPUFF—YOU WOULD NOT BE SO FLIPPANT IF YOU TRULY KNEW ME.

* * *

"An empty threat?" Susan wondered aloud as she sliced and diced ingredients for her latest cooking experiment.

 _Not quite_ , Harry told her mentally.

"Then what is it?" Susan asked.

 _He's nervous. He's trying to see how much we know about him._ Harry mused.

"So, what do we do next?" Susan asked.

 _I need to think about it_ , Harry told her.

* * *

On one Thursday night, Susan nearly had a heart attack upon arriving at Drury Lane. She found a twenty-gallon glass fish tank sitting atop the dining room table, and, in it, a snake. Apparently, Harry had gone shopping.

"Harry!" she yelled after gasping.

Harry appeared at the top of the stairs and slowly made his way down. _Yes?_

"Why a snake?" Susan demanded.

 _Practice_ , Harry told her. He walked over to the table and peered down through a wire screen into the tank. He blinked a few times and then suddenly, there was air hissing through Harry's teeth. The snake in the tank froze and looked upward toward Harry.

 _It sounds like gibberish to him_ , Harry told Susan mentally. _But I have already made a lot of progress. I think it is time for you to put up our response to Tom Riddle's latest message, but it will have to be a little different this time._

* * *

Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout entered Professor Dumbledore's office, each nearly out of breath.

"What is it Albus?" Professor McGonagall demanded.

"Have a seat," Dumbledore invited, gesturing absentmindedly at his bowl of lemon drops "I have a received a message directly from the Heir of Hufflepuff." He picked a piece of parchment off his desk and passed it around.

The House heads each examined it. The message had been formed using words and letters from _Daily Prophet_ headlines.

 _Professor Dumbledore,_

 _My response to the Heir of Slytherin's latest may incite a violent reaction. I urge you to take all possible precautions. I realize this will not please you, but as things stand, the Heir of Slytherin presents an imminent threat, which must be neutralized before it is too late. Unfortunately, he is now all but invulnerable and will remain so unless provoked into overextending himself._

"Maybe we should hunt down the Heir of Hufflepuff and force him to reveal his secrets," Snape said angrily.

"Maybe so," Dumbledore said. "For now, we will need to see about safety precautions."

* * *

"Why is Snape always in that hallway?" Hannah whispered to Susan after they and half a dozen other Hufflepuffs had walked past Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on their way from dinner.

 _He's waiting for the new message to appear_ , Susan told herself. To Hannah, she merely said, "I don't know."

"It probably has something to do with all the new rules," Hannah said.

"Maybe so," Susan agreed.

* * *

Snape was present when the message Susan had placed on the wall finally appeared, seemingly of its own accord. He immediately summoned the other high-ranking professors to the scene. Professor Dumbledore was the last to arrive and took time examining the message.

I KNOW PRECISELY WHO YOU ARE, ANAGRAM BOY.

"I don't understand," Professor McGonagall said.

"I think I do," Dumbledore said slowly, his thoughts racing. "This situation is perhaps more dangerous than I realized."

"What does 'anagram boy' mean?" Flitwick asked.

Dumbledore sighed and looked around to make sure he and the professors were the only persons present. Seeing nobody, he drew his wand and proceeded to explain. "When the Chamber of Secrets was last opened, I strongly suspected that a student named Tom Marvolo Riddle was responsible."

"But wasn't Hagrid arrested for that?" Flitwick demanded.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "But, I think Tom Riddle framed him."

"So, what does this Tom Riddle have to do with it or this message left by the Heir of Hufflepuff?" Professor Sprout asked.

Dumbledore smiled wanly. He held up his wand, and the letters to spell Tom Marvolo Riddle zoomed out of the tip and began hovering in the air. He swished his wand casually, and the letters rearranged themselves.

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

Professors Sprout and McGonagall gasped as they read the phrase.

"I think you will all agree that my suspicions about Mr. Riddle were correct," Professor Dumbledore said as the letters faded away. "It would appear that the Heir of Hufflepuff believes that Lord Voldemort is still functioning as the Heir of Slytherin."

"Well, do you think he is?" McGonagall demanded.

"I hope not," Professor Dumbledore said.

* * *

Less than a week later, the Heir of Slytherin struck during the night. Unfortunately, a certain couple had been out of their dorms and meeting each other for a romantic encounter. Fortunately, despite ignoring the special rules, they had been carrying mirrors.

"Fools!" Snape thundered as he and the other professors looked down at the floor where the petrified forms of Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater were slumped against a wall. Above them, written on the wall, was a message.

WHO ARE YOU, HUFFLEPUFF?

"What were they doing alone?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Being stupid," Snape said.

"We have no way of knowing that or what they were doing," Professor Dumbledore said generously.

"How is You-Know-Who doing this?" Flitwick asked. "He's supposed to be dead or far away."

"He has perhaps found some way to influence events in the castle," Dumbledore surmised.

* * *

At Professor Dumbledore's command, every student and staff member gathered in the Great Hall at the same time for dinner. Before the food appeared on the tables, Dumbledore stood up to address everybody.

"The situation is serious," he said, "and I anticipate it will get worse. If you choose to disobey the rules, you run the risk of meeting death at the hands of Slytherin's heir. I beg the Heir of Hufflepuff to come forward and share any information that will help us apprehend the Heir of Slytherin in a timely fashion. If you do not come forward, I will be disappointed that you have chosen to put lives at risk, but nonetheless, I promise that neither I nor the Hogwarts staff will interfere with your activities. If any of you observe any suspicious activity, please report it to a professor immediately. Do not attempt to confront the person. He or she might not be the heir you think you have detected. Thank you."

Dinner then proceeded with the students talking quietly and eyeing the Hufflepuff table.

 _I don't think I will be able to sneak out of the castle as often as I have been_ , Susan told Harry.

 _Lockdown?_ Harry asked.

 _Not quite, but close_ , Susan responded.

 _Let's do one more response, if you can_ , Harry suggested.

* * *

Over the next few days, Susan casually made her way to the corridor outside of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on multiple occasions. But, each time, she did not feel comfortable enough to perform the magic to arrange for the message. It seemed students were carefully watching for any suspicious behavior in the hallways. Susan thought she might be able to dodge the observation of the students, but she feared that the professors might have found some way to monitor the location. Perhaps the Heir of Slytherin himself would be watching.

Susan and Harry eventually decided that the message would have to appear elsewhere in the castle. This proved to make stealthy activities easier and allowed Susan to be more elaborate with the next message. As students proceeded to class one morning, two simultaneous explosions heralded the appearance of a Hogwarts flag and a Hufflepuff flag on brackets anchored to the wall outside of Professor Lockhart's classroom. In between the flags, Hufflepuff's message appeared:

SLYTHERIN—ALL REASONABLE FACTORS CONSIDERED, I CALCULATE MYSELF TO BE YOUR FORTY-THIRD WORST LIVING ENEMY.

An excited and amused buzz raced through the throng of students that had already been present when the message appeared. As news of the message raced through the castle, Professor Lockhart emerged from his classroom to strut around and give comfort to the students. He was a little displeased by the "forty-third" designation, though.

"The estimate is very conservative. It doesn't do to brag too much," he told a group of teenage witches, as he postured in his yellow and black robes and sipped from a large glass of water. "Obviously, the Heir of Hufflepuff is number one in terms of anybody who can do anything about the situation and is attempting to lull the Heir of Slytherin into complacency."

Susan smiled. Harry had wanted to list her as at least third, next to himself and Dumbledore, but she had convinced him that it would be more amusing to make it forty-third and place it outside of Professor Lockhart's classroom. After pausing to admire her handiwork, she continued making her way to her next class.

* * *

"A joke perhaps?" Flitwick suggested. "What is the Heir of Hufflepuff trying to say?"

"I know of one joke," Snape scowled. "Can't we fire Lockhart on the pretext that any decent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would have solved this problem by now?"

"Is there any chance that Lockhart really is the Heir of Hufflepuff, or assisting the Heir of Hufflepuff?" Professor Sprout asked.

Snape scowled and stormed out of the room.

"I don't think Professor Lockhart is really the Heir of Hufflepuff," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling wildly. "I hope for his sake that the Heir of Slytherin shares my opinion."

* * *

"Will you stop hissing at that thing?" Susan scowled as she speared a chunk of fire-roasted chicken off her plate.

 _I'm just enjoying the ability to finally conduct verbal conversations_ , Harry told her mentally.

"It is not a verbal conversation," Susan said. "Nobody can understand it. How about you try speaking English?"

 _I try every day_ , Harry told Susan. _No luck._

* * *

After a visit and dinner with Harry, Susan returned to the Hogwarts castle later than usual one night. It seemed that the Honeydukes was conducting an inventory of their stock. The activity of the shopkeepers and their employees made it nearly impossible for Susan to access the secret passage in the shop.

Susan wasted valuable time waiting for the possibility that the workers would take a break from their labors. Once Susan concluded that the inventory process would last into the night and that she was running out of time, Susan made haste for the Shrieking Shack. From there, she took the secret tunnel to the Whomping Willow and slipped into the castle only minutes before curfew.

Using a mirror and all sorts of other detection spells to avoid any accidental encounter with the basilisk, Susan made her way toward the Hufflepuff dormitories, unsuccessfully trying to take the most direct path and having to take detours to avoid professors and prefects on patrol. Thanks to one particularly inconvenient detour, Susan found herself in the corridor outside of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Susan was surprised to discover that there was a new message from Slytherin on the wall. The red paint was still wet and still dripping.

THEIR BONES WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER, AND THEIR BLOOD WILL BE ON YOUR HANDS, HUFFLEPUFF.

 _Uh, Harry …_ , Susan said, reaching out to Harry telepathically.

 _Yes?_ Harry asked.

 _It looks like the Heir of Slytherin has struck_. Susan then described her discovery to Harry.

There was a long pause while Harry considered the situation. Finally, he responded. _Has anybody else seen the message?_

 _I don't think so_ , Susan said. _There are no alarms. The professors and prefects are behaving as normal._

 _Destroy the message. I don't want anybody to see it._ Harry said.

 _Okay_ , Susan said, drawing her wand and thinking of some cleaning or scouring spells.

 _No, wait!_ Harry said. _Hide it. We might want to use it to our benefit later_.

 _Okay_ , Susan acknowledged, shifting her train of thought to imagine the different spells she could use to camouflage the writing on the wall.

 _As soon as you take care of it, hide nearby. Maybe in a room with a window so I can meet up with you. I'm getting my broomstick and will be there soon,_ Harry instructed.

Susan used several illusion spells to hide the message and then retreated to a classroom near the corridor outside of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Telepathically, she described the classroom's location to Harry, who then responded and told Susan that he was familiar with the room.

After about fifteen minutes, Harry arrived, and began hovering on his broom outside the classroom's windows.

 _How are you going to get inside?_ Susan asked. _I don't know if you can sneak in through one of the doors of that castle and avoid detection._

 _We'll just have to break the windows, here_ , Harry told Susan. _Can you cast some silencing charms so that nobody inside of the castle can hear the windows break? And then maybe you should be the one to blast them so that the glass explodes outward instead of inward toward you._

Susan drew her wand, cast the requisite silencing charms, and then let loose with a blaster as soon as Harry signaled he was safely out of the way. The windows exploded outward. As soon as the glass shards had settled, Harry zoomed into the room with his broom, dismounted, and signaled Susan to follow him.

 _We need to be away from here just in case somebody heard that or saw it from the other side_ , Harry said, carrying his broom and walking toward the door.

Susan, who could see that Harry was having to physically strain himself, darted to his side, both to keep up with his pace and so that she could be there if Harry needed an arm to lean on.

* * *

"You are making a mistake Minister," Professor Dumbledore said as he, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall made their way across the Hogwarts grounds to Hagrid's cabin with Minister Fudge and a couple of his flunkies.

"I have to do something," Fudge stubbornly insisted. "Hagrid was the one responsible last time."

"I have evidence that he was framed. It was somebody else," Dumbledore said firmly.

Fudge stopped and turned around. "Then, who was it then and who is doing it now?"

"It would not be wise to divulge that information quite yet," Dumbledore hedged.

"In other words, you do not really know," Fudge said, throwing up his arms in exasperation. "You know, I almost wonder if you are competent to be Headmaster of this institution. Lucius Malfoy suggested as much to me last fall."

Snape sneered at the Minister of Magic. "You mean right before he was arrested?"

Fudge scowled and opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted when an explosion and the sound of tinkling glass sounded from the direction of the castle. "What was that?" he demanded.

"It sounds like somebody just blew out one of the castle's windows," McGonagall said faintly.

"We must return to the castle immediately," Dumbledore declared.

* * *

Quietly, Harry and Susan entered Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and moved toward the sink that served as the gateway to the Chamber of Secrets.

"So, this faucet has never worked, eh?" Susan said, reaching out her hand and twisting the faucet handle as Harry eyeballed the small snake etched into the metal.

Harry was about to respond but was surprised as the sink abruptly fell away despite Harry not having said anything in Parseltongue.

 _Of course_ , Harry observed to Susan, _Tom doesn't realize that he is dealing with somebody who speaks Parseltongue. He would have had to make it so that the Heir of Hufflepuff could fall into his trap. I guess my preparations were unnecessary. Are you ready?_

Susan nodded nervously. _Let's do it_.

Harry mounted his broom, and at his invitation, Susan mounted behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing tightly. Slowly, Harry guided the broom into the pipe shaft. As soon as the broom passed into the dark tunnel-pipe, the entrance slammed shut.

 _I hope you can open it from the inside_ , Susan said to Harry, purposely using only the mental communication.

 _It shouldn't be a problem_ , Harry said as he cautiously guided the broom downward. _Let us try to prevent Tom from discovering that there are two of us before we are ready to make our move._

 _I know. I remember the plan_ , Susan told Harry.

* * *

The professors and Minister of Magic found the shattered window with relative ease. Finding the perpetrator and an explanation for the explosion proved to be far more difficult.

"It might just be a prank," Minister Fudge scoffed.

"Not with the location of the attacks so close at hand," Snape said as he angrily surveyed the damage. "This is clearly tied to the Chamber of Secrets. Which means that Hagrid, who was at his cabin, is probably innocent."

Fudge scowled.

"Let's search for any new message from either heirs and see if we can detect any irregular activity around the castle," Dumbledore said.

"What about checking the dormitories?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"No," Professor Dumbledore responded. "We don't want to alarm the students unnecessarily." Under his breath, he also muttered something else. "We also don't want to shackle the Heir of Hufflepuff, just in case something serious really is happening and he or she is attempting to take action."

* * *

The memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle impatiently paced up and down the aisle between the snake statues in the Chamber of Secrets. He knew that the timing of things made it so that it could be hours or even an entire day before the disappearance of his victims was discovered and the Heir of Hufflepuff took the bait. He did not necessarily mind waiting. The longer he waited, the stronger he would be. But, the Heir of Hufflepuff might also be better prepared if he or she took time to prepare for the confrontation.

As he paced, Tom Riddle arrived at the base of Slytherin's statue where his two victims lay on the stone floor. Draco Malfoy, the pathetic little idiot, clutched the horcrux diary. Getting a hold on Draco's soul had been difficult. Draco had mostly responded to flattery. It was not until Draco's father had been arrested and Draco had been feeling vulnerable enough that Tom had been able to get his fangs into Draco's soul.

As for the other victim, Gilderoy Lockhart, if all went well, his death and the death of the Heir of Hufflepuff would lead to the creation of additional horcruxes. Tom had also intended that Lockhart's death would serve to instill fear into the hearts of those who believed Gilderoy Lockhart to be the greatest fighter against the Dark Arts in the world, except for Albus Dumbledore, of course.

Unfortunately, when Tom had led Draco to confront Lockhart, Tom had learned that Lockhart was nothing but a fraud. The little squealer had retreated into his bedroom and hid beneath the bed, literally losing control of his bladder. Tom had then realized that Lockhart's killing would not be considered a great feat by those who knew Lockhart's real nature. Feeling particularly vicious, Tom kicked Gilderoy Lockhart's unconscious form.

Tom was about to kick again when he heard the doors to the Chamber slide open. Quickly, Tom retreated into the shadows and waited for the Heir of Hufflepuff to appear. Faint footsteps sounded, drawing gradually nearer to the base of Slytherin's statue. For a moment the footsteps paused, just when the Heir of Hufflepuff would be about halfway up the length of the Chamber. After a moment, the footsteps resumed.

Tom nodded. _This Heir is not a complete fool. He or she did not just blindly rush toward the victims at first sight._

Finally, the Heir of Hufflepuff came into sight. Tom was surprised to see a young witch with long red hair. As had been implied by her claim that she was Hufflepuff's heir, her school uniform and colors confirmed that she was a member of the Hufflepuff house. She studied Malfoy and Lockhart's prone forms for a long time without moving. Then suddenly, she looked up straight toward where Tom was hiding in the shadows.

Tom Riddle froze. Though she surely could not see him, he felt like her eyes were boring straight into him. This Hufflepuff was no innocent little schoolgirl. She was … something else. Perhaps a more formidable enemy than he had imagined.

Refusing to give the witch the pleasure of being the one to draw him out of the shadows, Tom waited. Eventually, the witch turned her attention back to his victims. Deftly and without any hesitation, the witch plucked the wands of Malfoy and Lockhart away from their unconscious forms. Within seconds, she had broken both wands.

Suddenly, Tom wanted to lash out. He almost did. He should have taken his victims' wands before the Heir of Hufflepuff had arrived. But, it was no matter. He had the basilisk. He would probably be able to take Hufflepuff's wand from her, too.

Tom stepped out of the shadows as the Heir of Hufflepuff backed away from the victims, her wand drawn and aimed toward the shadows.

"It is all right," Tom said. "I am not going to hurt you. Who are you?"

The witch smiled. "I am your forty-third worst enemy, of course. Who are you?"

"I am Tom Riddle. Perhaps you have heard of me."

"Should I have heard of you?"

"Who are you, really?" Tom asked, ignoring the coy question.

"My identity is not important," the witch said, dodging the question.

Tom was beginning to feel intrigued. Perhaps he would not kill her. Somebody this clever might prove useful. "Why are you my enemy?" Tom asked.

"Aren't you everybody's enemy?" the witch asked, firmly pointing her wand at Tom.

"I don't look at it that way," Tom argued. "What are you planning to do? Kill me? You won't find it easy. It would be far better if you joined me. As Hufflepuff and Slytherin, we could rule Hogwarts together."

"I think I will satisfy myself with informing the Headmaster that I have discovered the location of the Chamber of Secrets," the witch said. She began walking backward, keeping her wand and eyes trained on Tom.

"Going to summon my first worst enemy, are you?" Tom chuckled.

"Professor Dumbledore rates as your second worst enemy on my list," the witch said, "but he will have to do for now." She was now backing away more quickly.

"You won't escape," Tom said, turning toward Slytherin's statue and hissing in Parseltongue for the mouth to open and let the basilisk loose. The basilisk began to emerge from the statue. Already, the witch who was the Heir of Hufflepuff was running.

Tom laughed and then gave his instructions in Parseltongue. _Kill the witch!_

The basilisk slithered forward, quickly gaining ground.

Somehow, the witch must have known that the snake was getting ready to strike. She darted off the main aisle of the Chamber and into the shadows among the pillars. Tom rolled his eyes. Surely, she did not really believe that she could hide from the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets itself.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion roared. Within milliseconds, the snake that had been chasing the Heir of Hufflepuff was hurtling across the Chamber of Secrets. With a sickening crunch, the basilisk's head crashed into Slytherin's statue, and it let out a shriek of pain. As the basilisk attempted to regain its orientation, another spell blasted into the snake's head, causing it to shriek even louder. Another half of dozen explosions sounded, each followed by sickening thuds and reptilian shrieks.

Tom knew, without having to look, that there was no way the basilisk's eyes could have survived the brutal onslaught of pure magical strength. Hissing, Tom looked into the shadows and was surprised to see somebody who was not the Heir of Hufflepuff emerge. It was a wizard—young, with dark hair and blazing green eyes. His wand was drawn, but he also looked relaxed.

"Who are you?" Tom demanded.

The answer was oblique, and in Parseltongue, which shocked Tom.

 _If you had been cleverer,_ the wizard told Tom, _you would have realized that your forty-third worst enemy was baiting you into a trap set by your first worst enemy._

"That doesn't tell me who you are," Tom snarled.

 _I am Harry Potter,_ the wizard hissed. _When I was a baby, I killed Lord Voldemort when he came to kill me in my crib._

"No," Tom said, "you did not kill me. It is impossible to truly kill me."

 _I wouldn't say impossible,_ Harry hissed _, just more difficult_. _Fortunately, you have provided me the means._ He raised his wand and pointed it at the basilisk, still writhing in agony and possibly brain damaged beyond repair from having its head repeatedly battered against a large rock. A loud bang sounded, and suddenly, a lance of ice had embedded itself into the basilisk's skull through one of the bloody eye sockets.

Harry and Tom watched and listened as the basilisk's last breath wheezed from its corpse.

"You still won't be able to kill me," Tom told Harry. "In fact, it may already be too late."

 _I think not,_ Harry hissed, waving his wand.

Suddenly, the diary in Draco Malfoy's arms ripped free and began flying in the air. It zoomed toward the basilisk's mouth and impaled itself on rows and rows of fangs dripping with basilisk venom. As ink spurted and gushed from the diary, Tom exploded, and was no more.

* * *

After Tom Riddle had exploded, Susan emerged from the shadows and took a position at Harry's side. "That went well," she observed.

 _Indeed, it did_ , Harry told her telepathically as he let himself relax into a bit of a standing slump. _Happily, I have more strength leftover than I thought I would have at the end of this confrontation._

Malfoy and Lockhart began stirring from their unconscious states before Susan could respond to Harry's comment with her concern for how little strength he did have left.

 _Stun them_ _as hard as you can_ , Harry directed.

Susan was only too glad to go over to where the two lay and let loose with two of the strongest stunners she had ever cast.

 _They'll keep for a while_ , Susan told Harry mentally as she returned to his side.

 _Let's go have a rest and plan the Heir of Hufflepuff's grand finale_ , Harry said, hooking arms with Susan and turning toward the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets.

* * *

Susan stealthily made her way back to the Hufflepuff dormitories. She was pleased to discover that none of her housemates were pulling an all-nighter in the common room.

Knowing her roommates would have noticed that her bed was empty, Susan decided to sleep in the common room. Susan sought out a secluded corner of the common room. Without rearranging the furniture, Susan set things up to make it look like she had been studying and had fallen asleep.

 _All clear, I think_ , Susan informed Harry through the mental link.

 _I'm setting the timers now,_ Harry told her. _Remember to act normal tomorrow._

 _I've had plenty of practice_ , Susan replied drowsily.

* * *

"Did anybody ever find out who broke the windows?" Professor McGonagall asked as Snape sat down to his breakfast.

Snape scowled. "No. But, at about 4:30 in the morning, somebody broke into Filch's office, stole several dozen confiscated dungbombs, and set them off in the dungeons—right in front of my living quarters."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Severus," McGonagall said. "But if somebody did that, it shows that breaking the window may have not have been connected to the Chamber of Secrets."

* * *

Snape was still in a foul mood as his morning class began. He had not gotten far into the lesson when an announcement from Dumbledore blared through the school.

"Attention students. Please proceed to the Great Hall immediately. Professors, please also proceed to the Great Hall and supervise. Professor Snape, please proceed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom as soon as you are able."

Snape goaded his students toward the Great Hall and then took the shortest route possible to the Defense classroom. There, he found Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and the second-year students of Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Many of the second-year witches were sobbing. Many of the second-year wizards looked torn between amusement and fear. In front of the class sat a chalkboard. On it, a message had been written:

STUDENTS: PROFESSOR LOCKHART'S CLASS IS CANCELLED THIS MORNING AS HE HAS BEEN EATEN BY THE BASILISK. I WISH I COULD TELL YOU THAT HE PUT UP A GOOD FIGHT, BUT I WOULD BE LYING TO YOU IF I DID. LOVE, SLYTHERIN.

"What happened?" Snape asked. "Do we have any confirmation? Or is it a joke?"

"Shortly after class was scheduled to start, the message appeared," McGonagall informed Snape. "Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom, and Mr. Weasley came and fetched me from my class, and I notified the Headmaster."

"Nobody has been able to locate Professor Lockhart," Dumbledore said solemnly.

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "We may have to close down the school. It looks like the Heir of Slytherin is killing people now."

Dumbledore was frowning. "It seems strange to me. This message does not seem like the Heir of Slytherin's style."

"What, killing people or the snarky chalkboard message?" Snape asked.

"The chalkboard," Dumbledore said. "Minerva, please take these students to the Great Hall. Severus and I will check the corridor where messages normally appear and then meet you and the other professors at the Great Hall."

Without further ado, Dumbledore and Snape left the classroom and cautiously made their way through the castle to the corridor outside of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. There, they found the message Susan had found the night previous.

THEIR BONES WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER, AND THEIR BLOOD WILL BE ON YOUR HANDS, HUFFLEPUFF.

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "We will have to take roll and see who else is missing. We will then have to see to organizing a rescue effort. Minerva, please notify the Ministry and see if they can send us some Aurors."

"Or maybe we should find a way to unmask the so-called Heir of Hufflepuff," Snape suggested.

* * *

Hermione meandered among the students gathered in the Great Hall, staring suspiciously at every student she saw—especially the Slytherins. She stopped when she found Susan Bones sitting at the Hufflepuff table reading a copy of _Witch Weekly_.

"You seem awfully calm," Hermione observed, joining Susan at the table.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Susan asked, turning a page in the magazine.

"I don't know. Aren't you afraid?"

"Of what?" Susan asked.

Hermione was about to argue with Susan when Professor McGonagall announced that the staff was going to do a roll call and that each student should cooperate with the staff member who came around to check people off the list.

"You would think they would have done that a lot sooner," Susan muttered.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, only have caught the tail end of Susan's comment.

"Nothing," Susan said, turning another page.

Hermione kept something of a conversation going. When Neville, Hannah, and Ron joined the table, the pace picked up a bit more. Soon, Professor Sprout came by and checked each student off the list.

Eventually, the roll call results came back. Professor McGonagall stood up and announced that both Professor Lockhart and Draco Malfoy were missing.

Susan snorted. "No wonder the Heir of Hufflepuff hasn't done anything. As far as I'm concerned, the Heir of Slytherin can keep his victims."

Ron and Neville laughed out loud.

"Surely you don't mean that!" Hermione gasped.

Susan shrugged and went back to her magazine while the second years who had gathered around her chit-chatted with each other.

* * *

It was nearly dinnertime. Various dishes full of foods had begun appearing on the tables. The professors and Aurors who had been helping with the rescue effort were beginning to gather into the Great Hall with slumped shoulders and disappointed expressions on their faces. They had been unable to find any clues that would help them rescue the Heir of Slytherin's hostages.

"This could be end of Hogwarts," Hermione said.

"I sincerely doubt it," Susan said, finally putting down her magazine, standing up, and stretching.

Hermione shook her head. "What makes you so sure?"

Susan grinned. "It is the same as how I knew you would be in Gryffindor. I can feel it right here." She pointed to her elbow.

Hermione shook her head. She had just opened her mouth to retort when a creepy-sounding whisper began echoing throughout the Great Hall. Not all the students instantly noticed the whisper, but all were silent after Professor Dumbledore cast a mass silencing charm over the student body so that he could hear.

 _Attention students and staff of Hogwarts. This is the Heir of Hufflepuff speaking, and I have good news for you. After learning of the Heir of Slytherin's attack on Professor Lockhart and Draco Malfoy, I forced my way into the Chamber of Secrets. There, I killed the basilisk and saved Lockhart and Malfoy from certain death. I regret to say, however, that I was not able to kill the Heir of Slytherin, for he is a truly brilliant and dangerous wizard who is not easily killed. Despite being unable to kill Slytherin, I banished him from the castle on a temporary basis. He will stay away for a season, but he is certain to return within a matter of a few short years. I do not know whether I will be able to stop him, then. I suggest you prepare yourselves. For those of you who wish to attend to the needs of Lockhart and Malfoy, the useless pieces of rubbish that they are, you will find them deep in the Chamber of Secrets near the basilisk's carcass. Proceed to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, tap your wand on the sink with the faucet that does not have water, and say "Open says me." The entrance to the Chamber will be revealed to you. Have a nice year, and feel free to have a feast or three in my honor._

With the Heir of Hufflepuff's last word, explosions began sounding all around the Great Hall. When the explosions ended, the Great Hall was covered with Hufflepuff banners and yellow and black confetti. The students cheered, and without further ado, Professor Dumbledore, the staff, and several Aurors were rushing to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.


	11. Chapter 10:Hufflepuff's Summer Adventure

**FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter Ten: Hufflepuff's Summer Adventure**

"Clear!" shouted one or two of the Aurors who had stormed into the Chamber of Secrets ahead of the rest of the rescue party.

Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape entered the Chamber of Secrets with several other Ministry workers and Aurors following behind.

"Merlin!" McGonagall exclaimed as the width and breadth of the Chamber came into view.

"Extraordinary," Dumbledore said, taking only the briefest of moments to stare at the Chamber. Without wasting any further time, he strode quickly down the main aisle of the Chamber toward Slytherin's statue where Draco Malfoy and Gilderoy Lockhart were on the floor.

"Somebody broke their wands," an Auror pointed out.

"I'm more interested in the basilisk," Snape said, already walking toward the carcass.

Dumbledore watched as the medics gave Lockhart and Malfoy cursory examinations.

"They'll be fine," one of the medics informed Dumbledore. "They've just been stunned."

"I don't think I've seen a stunner so powerful," the other medic observed.

Dumbledore shrugged at the latter observation, nodded to the medics, and joined Snape to examine the basilisk's carcass.

"Somebody stabbed it in the eye after beating up on it for quite a bit," Snape observed.

Dumbledore gestured to the large puddle of water in which the basilisk's head rested. "The puddle of water and absence of another stabbing weapon suggests an ice lance—an ice lance that is now completely melted. The basilisk has been dead for some time."

Dumbledore shook his head ruefully, though his eyes were twinkling. "This fight was over long before we learned that the Heir of Slytherin had kidnapped Lockhart and Malfoy. Last night, the Heir of Hufflepuff must have discovered that the attack had occurred. The broken window must be connected, somehow."

"Very sly," Snape said, "but now we have figured out the Heir of Hufflepuff's game."

"Not really," Dumbledore said. "We understand his method. But, why not just quietly inform me this morning that there had been an incident? Why cause the school to go on lockdown for the entire day? Until we know the answers to that, we do not know what Hufflepuff's game is."

* * *

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody found Dumbledore alone in the Chamber of Secrets when he arrived at the Hogwarts Castle. The aged headmaster had conjured a large, purple armchair and was sitting in it, staring at the dead basilisk.

"The Heir of Hufflepuff has made a name for himself or herself," Moody observed. "Everybody at the Ministry is talking about it. I hear that book deals are already in the works notwithstanding the lack of anybody with knowledge to write a book."

"Maybe that is what Hufflepuff wanted," Dumbledore said, smiling wanly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," Dumbledore said, his eyes beginning to twinkle again. "Have you come to see the spectacle?"

"Indeed," Moody said, already examining the basilisk carcass and his surroundings with a critical eye. "This Heir of Hufflepuff is a power with which to be reckoned, I think," Moody declared after about ten minutes.

"Why do you say that?" Dumbledore asked.

By the time the ice lance finished off the basilisk, it was already dying," Moody said, kicking the dead basilisk's head and pointing to some damage on the statue above. Its skull had practically been crushed to powder after being repeatedly thrown against the stone by blasts of magic. That magic must have been a sight to behold. Do we know who the Heir of Slytherin was?"

"For all intents and purposes, it was Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore declared holding up the remains of a black diary. "Beyond that, I know little. But I am very worried. More worried than I was before."

* * *

The Hogwarts staff inadvertently heeded the Heir of Hufflepuff's advice that they hold three parties in Hufflepuff's honor. The dinner shortly after Hufflepuff's dramatic announcement counted as the first. Then there was the feast where Dumbledore announced the winner of the House Cup.

Dumbledore had awarded many points to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for their good actions throughout the school year, but nobody except those who could actually count points could deny that the highest honor should be Hufflepuff's.

After that feast, the Heads of Houses had also decided that there should be an extended party and celebration throughout the entire castle lasting well into the night so that the students would go home feeling that Hogwarts that was once again a safe and happy place.

Susan was not too keen on socializing, but the many treats and beverages at the third celebration had tempted her to pay a visit to the Great Hall. She was sipping a butterbeer when Hermione found her.

"You knew," Hermione declared.

"Knew what?" Susan asked.

"On the train, in September, you said there would be danger in the hallways. _And bathrooms_. You knew that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione accused.

Susan shook her head. "I merely had a feeling of foreboding that there would be danger in the hallways and bathrooms, both of which are common areas outside of the dormitories. If I had known about Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, I would not have used the plural for bathrooms."

Still feeling skeptical, Hermione shook her head.

"Goodnight, Hermione," Susan said, abruptly breaking away from the perceptive young witch and heading for the doorway that allowed passage in and out of the Great Hall. When she reached the doorway, she turned back, caught Hermione's gaze, and winked. She then slipped through the doorway.

On the way to the Hufflepuff common room, where there was also something of an ongoing party, Susan crossed paths with Luna Lovegood. This proved to be fortuitous, for over the past few days, Susan had been searching for a private opportunity to speak with Luna.

"Luna, could I have a word with you?" Susan asked.

Luna, who had been fluttering down the hall and gazing at imaginary creatures near the ceiling, turned her gaze to Susan. Her gaze was one of suspicion. "What did I tell you to remember the last time we spoke?"

This caused Susan to pause. Quickly, she cast her mind back to the few days during the summer she had spent at the Burrow with some other classmates and the Weasley family. "Um, bacon is the cheapest vegetable," Susan answered.

Luna nodded. "Good. What is it you are wanting?"

"I need a bit of a favor," Susan asked. "I was hoping you might be able to help."

Luna studied Susan intently. "What is it that Harry Potter requires?"

Reflexively, Susan glanced over her should to make sure that nobody had heard Luna.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe," Luna said, looking and sounding so innocent that if it had been anybody else, Susan would have been worried.

"Harry has an awareness that you are and your father are wont to go traveling to exotic places during the summer holidays," Susan said.

Luna was already nodding. "Yes, indeed! Daddy and I are hoping to travel to the Mojave Desert this summer to go searching for snipes and jackalopes."

"Excellent!" Susan exclaimed. "I wonder, could you invite me to go with you and then if anybody later asks, tell them that I did go with you? And of course, you would need to make it so your father believes I did go with you."

"Unfortunately," Luna said, "we have not been able to raise enough money to cover the costs of the trip."

"I think we can make arrangements," Susan said, already telepathically reaching out to Harry to iron out the details.

* * *

On the train ride home from Hogwarts, Susan joined Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Hannah. Hermione spent most of the time staring at Susan suspiciously while the others chattered happily, sharing idle gossip, speculation, and summer plans. As the train pulled into Kings Cross Station, Hermione spoke up.

"And what do you foresee in our summers?" Hermione asked Susan, her question cutting through all the conversations.

"Nothing terribly eventful," Susan said, "though you may want to keep an eye on the _Daily Prophet_.

"Why?" Hermione demanded.

"Because it has news," Susan said sagely.

* * *

"I still don't like it," Amelia Bones said disapprovingly as she watched her niece, Susan, finish packing for her excursion to the Mojave Desert with Luna Lovegood and her father. "Just two years ago they were accusing you of kidnapping Harry Potter in that pathetic rag they publish."

"Nobody takes the _Quibbler_ seriously," Susan said reassuringly as she checked her traveling bags once more. "I'm not even sure the Lovegoods take it seriously. Besides, I've spent time with Luna and gotten to know her in the past year."

Amelia Bones sighed. "Well, remember to drink plenty of water out in the desert."

"Of course," Susan said as she picked up her bags and carried them to the kitchen where she could Floo away. At the fireplace, she hugged Amelia. "Thank you for letting me go with the Lovegoods. I'll be back in about a month."

"Contact me if there are any problems," Amelia instructed.

"Naturally," Susan said as she stepped into the fireplace, dropped a pinch of Floo powder, and disappeared into a burst of green flames.

* * *

 _I cleared out this room for you and arranged a bed and things_ , Harry told Susan telepathically as he led her to the upper floor of the house on Drury Lane. _I'll leave you to it to make any other changes. You should feel free to make it yours permanently, really._

"Thank you," Susan said as she entered her new bedroom and set down her bags on the bed. She paused. "You know, back in the day, we actually slept in the same room," she said, reminiscing.

A faint tinge of red appeared in Harry's cheeks. _Is that so? Not in the same bed, though?_

Susan's blush was more distinct than Harry's blush had been. _Not really_ , she said, falling back to mental communication instead of speaking aloud.

 _I see_ , Harry said, giving Susan a knowing smile.

"Let's get to work. We only have so many days before the Lovegoods return from their all-expense-paid trip to the United States," Susan declared. "Have you worked out your plan?"

 _Yes_ , Harry responded. _We're going to need to withdraw about fifty galleons from the bank, buy a gift certificate, and find some sort of camera._

* * *

"Molly! Molly!" Mr. Weasley called.

"What is it, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked, walking into the kitchen where her husband was sorting through the numerous letters they had received by owl post that week.

"We've won—," Arthur began.

"Won what?" the twins demanded in unison as they rushed into the kitchen.

Arthur gave his sons a look, cleared his throat, and began again. "Our family has won a free ten-course dinner at _Le Restaurant_."

"Brilliant!" Fred and George exclaimed.

"How did you win?" Mrs. Weasley demanded.

Arthur shrugged. "It says they randomly selected a Ministry worker.

"It is about time you got some appreciation," Mrs. Weasley said as the twins ran around the house, looking for Ron and Ginny.

* * *

"Are they gone yet?" Susan asked, squinting as she attempted to peer into the Burrow from the copse of trees where she and Harry had concealed themselves at the edge of the property on which the Burrow sat.

 _No_ , Harry replied. He was using omnioculars to peer into the Burrow. _They're still getting ready to go._

"They've been attempting to leave for half an hour!" Susan groused, giving up on trying to look into the Burrow without omnioculars. She leaned back against a tree. "If you were taking me to a restaurant, I would not be dawdling around, especially if it was a restaurant as expensive as _Le Restaurant_."

Suddenly, it occurred to Harry that it would be nice of him to take Susan out to a restaurant—especially considering that she had dedicated over ten years to helping him and especially considering she seemed to have developed into something of a food connoisseur from watching cooking shows and not generally being able to leave the house.

Harry lowered the omnioculars from his eyes and turned to look at Susan. _Would you like to go out to eat at a fancy restaurant after this?_

"Why, yes I would. Thank you," Susan replied.

 _You are welcome_ , Harry said suspiciously, now wondering if Susan had manipulated him into asking her out. It was hard to say. She was not the manipulative type, but he still had the vibe. Harry turned his focus back to the Burrow. He lifted his omnioculars and trained them on the Burrow just in time to see Mrs. Weasley shepherd Ron and Ginny into the fireplace and then follow.

 _We're clear_ , Harry told Susan after another couple of moments of checking to make sure Mr. Weasley and the others were not still around.

"Finally," Susan said, clambering to her feet.

 _Let's keep silent until we have Peter in custody_ , Harry suggested.

 _Right_ , Susan said mentally, switching to telepathic communication.

Looking every which way to ensure that they were not observed entering the Burrow, Harry and Susan made their way toward the backdoor of the Burrow. As had been expected, the Weasleys had left it unlocked and unguarded.

 _It hasn't been that long since the last war,_ Susan observed. _You think they would be more careful._

 _They do not keep valuables worth stealing_ , Harry explained as he and Susan entered the Burrow's ground floor and quietly approached the stairway. _They are more careful when at home._

 _Where would Peter be?_ Susan asked.

Harry looked up the staircase. _In Ron's room, at the top_ , he told Susan grimly.

 _How do we get up with alerting him?_ Susan asked, wincing at the thought of how much creaking there would be on the wooden staircase.

 _You know, maybe we are overthinking this_ , Harry said. _Let's just walk up_. _If Peter hears us, his first assumption will not be that somebody is here to collect him._ Harry drew his wand. Susan followed suit, and the two walked up the stairs casually. They reached the top, entered Ron's room, and found Peter Pettigrew, in his animagus form, sleeping in his cage.

Swiftly, Harry brought his wand to bear and stunned Peter.

"That was easy," Susan said.

 _Yes_ , Harry replied. _Get him ready to travel._

* * *

"I will have to get the recipe for that desert," Mrs. Weasley told Mr. Weasley. "It was delicious, but I think I could do passable version on my own at home."

"Yes, it was very good," Mr. Weasley agreed.

"Mom! Dad!" Ron shouted, pounding down the stairs. "Scabbers is gone!"

"Gone?" Arthur asked.

"He was right in his cage when we left. Now, the cage door is open, and he's gone!"

"Well, let's have a look around," Arthur suggested. "He can't have wandered far."

"But the cage door was locked! There was no way he could get out," Ron argued. "Somebody has stolen him!"

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Your rat isn't the first and won't be the last pet that figured out how to escape from a cage like that. Don't worry, he's a smart rat. He won't stray far from the food."

"Let's try the kitchen, first," Arthur said, already beginning to poke around the clutter in the kitchen.

"I'm going to check upstairs with Fred and George," Ron said darkly.

* * *

The Weasley family did not find Scabbers, despite combing the entirety of the Burrow, the land surrounding, and even some locations near the Burrow but off the Weasley property. However, it was not long before they did figure out what happened.

On the third morning following the disappearance of Scabbers, an owl arrived carrying a small parcel addressed to Ron Weasley. Those of the Weasley clan assembled for breakfast looked on as Ron unwrapped and opened the small box to reveal ten galleons. At the bottom of the box rested a piece of thick, yellow paper. At the top of the yellow paper was the silhouette of a black badger. Below the badger was a message handwritten in capital letters to disguise the handwriting of the author.

 _I was sorry to hear of your loss. I hope ten galleons is sufficient to buy you an owl or other pet of your choosing._

"The Heir of Hufflepuff stole Ron's rat!" Fred Weasley said, sounding both impressed and outraged.

"But, why?" Arthur Weasley asked.

"Let's call the Aurors!" Ron said, sounding furious. "We have proof, now!"

Arthur shook his head as he grabbed the yellow card from Ron. "It isn't a confession, Ron. Unfortunately, I did tell some of my work colleagues. This makes it possible for the so-called Heir of Hufflepuff to have known that your rat was stolen without having stolen it himself."

"So, we're not calling the Aurors?" Ron asked, sounding disappointed.

Arthur shook his head. "No. But, considering the events at Hogwarts this past year, it may be worth mentioning to Professor Dumbledore. I am concerned that the Heir of Hufflepuff would go to so much trouble to steal a rat and then gloat about it."

* * *

Later that night, Arthur Weasley ventured to Hogwarts on the way home from work. Moving through the empty castle, he made his way to Professor Dumbledore's office. There, Arthur found Dumbledore.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, and on such short notice," Arthur said as he sat down and graciously accepted one of the proffered lemon drops.

"It was no problem at all," Professor Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "I'm always glad to visit with my former students. What is it you wished to discuss?"

Arthur sighed and leaned back in his chair. "A little while back, I received an owl informing me that our family had won a drawing of some sort for a free dinner at a restaurant. Naturally, we went and enjoyed a free dinner. When we returned home that night, Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, had disappeared. We assumed that the rat had found a way to escape its cage and had wandered off into the wild."

Dumbledore was nodding. "Naturally. Animals often escape and are never seen again."

"It did seem odd, though," Arthur said. "Scabbers was a family pet for a long while. We would not have expected him to run off like that. He had many similar opportunities before. In fact, keeping him in a cage was more of a formality. It's where he is fed and watered, you see."

Dumbledore shrugged, seeming to lose interest in the topic of conversation.

"This morning, we received a parcel in the owl post from the Heir of Hufflepuff," Arthur said.

Dumbledore quickly leaned forward, suddenly intent on Arthur. "What do you mean?"

Arthur shrugged. "We received 10 galleons and note, on yellow paper with a black badger. Basically, the Heir of Hufflepuff informed my son that he or she is so sorry to hear of his missing rat and here is some money to cover buying a new pet."

Dumbledore stared at Arthur for several moments. The normally twinkling blue eyes were now directed inward. It was obvious that the headmaster's mind was racing at full speed as he tried to draw conclusions.

"What does it mean?" Arthur asked. "Obviously, Mr. Hufflepuff has covered his tracks rather well. I thought I would at least mention it to you, though."

"I … think I know precisely what happened, and why," Dumbledore said.

"You do?" Arthur asked, looking puzzled at how it was the aged headmaster could understand the motive for stealing his son's pet rat.

Dumbledore held up a parchment envelope that had been resting in front of him on his desk. "You see, I also received a message from the Heir of Hufflepuff this morning." Dumbledore picked up the parchment envelope and pulled out a full sheet photograph. He did not show it to Arthur, but instead stared at it himself.

"Tell me, Arthur," Dumbledore said slowly, "how long has your pet rat been in your family?"

"Well, ten years or so," Arthur said, attempting to recall.

"Would it be accurate to say that you've had the rat since about the time James and Lily Potter were killed?" Dumbledore pressed.

"A little bit less than that," Arthur said, thinking back to that time.

Dumbledore nodded. "And would I be correct in guessing that the rat had something of a deformity?"

"Yes, it was missing a finger or claw or whatever it is you call it," Arthur admitted.

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "This Heir of Hufflepuff doesn't miss a trick, does he?"

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

Dumbledore passed the photograph over the desk. Arthur picked it up and looked at it.

"He looks familiar," Arthur said. "Peter …"

"Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew," Dumbledore sighed as he finished Arthur's sentence. "He is holding yesterday's newspaper in such a way as to make it obvious that he is missing a finger. Your pet rat was an animagus."

"But Pettigrew died after confronting Sirius Black," Arthur said.

"And all they could find was his finger," Dumbledore said. "It must have been some sort of clever ploy. Peter faked his death and went to live with your family. Now, the Heir of Hufflepuff has captured Peter and demands that I expend every effort to have Sirius Black released from Azkaban based on this photograph."

"Why doesn't he just turn Pettigrew in to the authorities?" Arthur asked, still in shock over the realization that some strange wizard had been living in his child's bedroom for years and years on end.

"He or she did not say," Dumbledore sighed.

* * *

Giving no explanation, the Aurors in charge of Azkaban removed Sirius from his cell and bundled him into the boat that carried prisoners to and from Azkaban. At the shore, they produced a portkey and whisked him to the Ministry of Magic and into a tiny courtroom. There, in the courtroom, Sirius found Minister Fudge, Director Bones, Professor Dumbledore, Rufus Scrimgeour, and Remus Lupin.

"What is going on?" Sirius demanded, his voice rasping with disuse.

"Some new evidence has come to light," Dumbledore said gently. "We want to discuss it with you."

* * *

Acting on Dumbledore's advice, Sirius quickly accepted a hefty monetary settlement from the Ministry after haggling for a somewhat higher price for his cooperation. Gold and a copy of the press release in hand, Sirius prepared to depart from the Ministry as soon as the press release had been sent to all major news outlets, circulated among law enforcement, and read on the wizarding wireless.

"I wish you would not be so hasty," Dumbledore told Sirius. "There are a great number of things to discuss, not the least are Harry's disappearance and the so-called Heir of Hufflepuff."

"I'm not in the mood right now," Sirius rasped. "I want some alone time. There are things that I need to work out in my mind."

"I understand," Dumbledore sighed.

* * *

"To be perfectly honest, if I owned the house at Grimmauld Place, I would burn it down and collect the insurance money," Susan said from where she was lying on the couch and circling various entries in the television guide. "I sure would not want to sleep there. It is hardly a surprise that he has not yet shown his face there."

Harry was pacing back and forth, irritated that neither he nor Susan had been able to establish in-person contact with Sirius after the announcement that the Ministry had cleared him of all charges and that there was a reward for the capture of Peter Pettigrew. Eventually he threw up his hands in disgust. _I'm going to cook dinner._

Susan set aside the television guide and scrambled up off the couch. "No, I was going to cook dinner. I found a new recipe. Besides, it's only four o'clock!"

 _I'm bored. What else am I supposed to do?_ Harry groused.

"I guess you can help with some breadsticks," Susan conceded as she walked into the kitchen.

* * *

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," Remus said to Sirius as the pair sat down at the bar in a small pub off the beaten path. "I've felt awful since learning the truth. I should have figured it out myself—and sooner."

"Forget it," Sirius said, sounding almost completely sincere. "Everybody was supposed to be in the dark about the switch. I'm sorry to say that part of the problem was that James and I feared you might be the spy."

"Have you been to the family homestead since being released? What with your mother and brother being dead, I would imagine it has fallen into disrepair," Remus said.

Sirius shook his head as he accepted a menu and signaled that he would be drinking ale. "Believe me, disrepair is probably the least of its problems if my dear old mum was involved. I have not ventured in, yet. I think somebody is watching the place. I would rather not make my presence known until I know who is watching and why."

"Really?" Remus asked, intrigued. "Do you think they mean you harm?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. I'm thinking it might be that Heir of Hufflepuff creeper."

"He can't be all that bad," Remus said. "He got you out of Azkaban."

"But why?" Sirius demanded. "If he was just looking for justice, he would have turned Peter in. Which reminds me, I intend to track Peter down and give him what he has coming."

"Don't forget Harry," Remus said.

"Right," Sirius said. "Harry first. Then, Peter. Maybe the Ministry will step things up if I start breathing down their necks. Though I am not sure how they will feel when it becomes more widely known that I am Harry's godfather."

* * *

Even though most of the streetlamps were functioning, the part of the street in front of 12 Grimmauld Place was dark and shadowy—partially because there were no lights burning inside of the ancestral home of the Black family.

Sirius Black was taking advantage of a garbage pile located very near one of the burned-out streetlamps. Since dusk, he had been crouched among the rubbish, watching and waiting. It was not a surveillance position many would have endured—but for Sirius, it was no worse than the conditions he had endured in a prison cell during the last several years of his life.

Realizing that he was brooding about Azkaban again, Sirius realigned his attention just in time to spot a young female stroll down the street and take a position in the shadows beneath another burned out streetlamp. Sirius focused in on her. She appeared to be the same person who had spent several hours on the other end of the street the night previous.

She had possessed no good reason to be on the street the night before, and, as far as Sirius could see, there was nothing to occupy her attention tonight—except for his house. Shifting ever so slightly, Sirius drew his wand and silently cast several stealth charms. He then began slowly making his way over to young female's location. Fortunately for Sirius, she had chosen her position with only the goal of remaining unseen and not with the goal of being hard to approach.

Once Sirius was within easy reach of her, he leapt from his cover and dashed toward the girl. Her eyes widened as she spotted him racing toward her, but before she could do anything, Sirius had grabbed her and pushed her up against a brick wall.

"Who are you?" Sirius demanded, his voice rasping slightly because he had not entirely become accustomed to using it.

"Nobody," the girl said, her eyes still wide with surprise.

Sirius squinted as he examined in low light the girl who had been watching his house. She appeared to be a young teen, perhaps even younger—twelve, maybe. On the other hand, there were things about her that contradicted Sirius's guess at her age. Her hairstyle and clothes suggested a certain maturity. Also . . . her makeup. She was wearing some makeup. She had applied it deftly and with good taste. But, she was not following the styling of other young women Sirius had noticed while wandering the streets.

"Why are you watching my house?" Sirius demanded.

"Your house?" the girl asked. "Which is your house?"

"That one," Sirius said, gesturing toward 12 Grimmauld Place impatiently. "Why have you been watching it?"

"Uh . . . well . . . you see . . . ," the girl said, either lost for words or deliberately stalling. She seemed to be thinking deeply and had lost focus on her surroundings.

Sirius tapped his foot impatiently as he continued to hold her against the wall. "We're not going anywhere until you explain."

"Right . . . ," the girl said vaguely.

"Well?" Sirius demanded.

The girl suddenly smiled and began explaining everything in a most agreeable manner. "You see, what happened is that one of my neighbors asked if I would like some extra cash. All I had to do was watch your house and let him know as soon as anybody came to the house and went in."

Sirius was not convinced. "And who is your neighbor?"

"I only know him by sight," the girl confessed.

"And how were you going to let him know that I had arrived?" Sirius asked.

"Uh . . . a pub. He waits in or near a pub a few streets down. I was to notify him as soon as I saw anything. If nothing by later tonight, I was going to check in anyway and get my pay," the girl said.

Sirius nodded. "Well, let's go pay your neighbor a visit."

The girl shrugged. "Okay. It's this way."

Sirius let up from pressing her against the wall, but he took a firm grasp of her arm. "No funny business," he growled.

"Of course not," the girl said.

Soon, the pair was walking down the street.

"Describe him for me," Sirius demanded.

"Blond, tall," the girl said. "If he weren't so old, perhaps he would be handsome."

Sirius nodded, now on the lookout for tall, blond men.

Unfortunately for Sirius, he did not get much chance to search. He and the girl had just passed the corner of a building and were about to cross a street when Sirius felt a spell zap him the back. The familiar sensation of the body bind jinx washed over Sirius. The girl, despite being physically smaller than Sirius, did her level best to hold onto him and lower him to the pavement gently.

The girl peered into Sirius's eyes, an apologetic expression on her face. "I'm afraid that as soon as you cornered me, I telepathically arranged for an ambush."

Sirius felt like an idiot. Suddenly another person was standing over him, a wand in hand. He looked down and made eye contact with Sirius. His green eyes were disconcertingly familiar to Sirius.

"Sirius Black, allow me to introduce you to Harry Potter," said the girl.


	12. Chapter 11: Night Out on the Town

A/N: **WARNING –** Those of you who have me on their author update alert list will be seeing something strange in the near future because I have decided to perform something of a writing experiment. I expect to find this experiment very fun and hope that some of you are amused as well. Before I explain what the experiment is, I will provide you some background: When I created the plot for _Final Protocol_ , I hand-tailored the story to match the Harry/Susan pairing. So far, I am enjoying it immensely. And, I fully intend to keep writing _Final Protocol_ as I have been. So, do not let my next observations scare you. I assure you that _Final Protocol_ is not about to be sacrificed on the altar of my whims. Lately, I have gotten to thinking about how characters can drive plots. In my musings, I wondered what would happen if I were to take the basic plot or premise of _Final Protocol_ and replace Susan with another female lead. How would the plot progress? What choices would another female lead make? So, this is what I am going to do. In the near future, I will begin posting a parallel version of _Final Protocol_ where a witch other than Susan was appointed to serve as Harry's nurse and bodyguard. Those of you who are not disgusted may actually be asking which witch? That will have to be a surprise for you, partially because I want to see if anybody can guess the lucky witch's identity. For those of you who might like to guess, I'll give some clues: (1) There are very few stories on this site that purport to feature this witch, let alone pair her with Harry. (2) This witch is not one I have ever written about. She is nothing like Susan Bones. I do not intend for her to be like Bellatrix Black from _Delenda Est_ either, but maintaining that distinction could be difficult for me in some circumstances because of a couple of similarities. (3) This witch will approach the challenges placed before her and Harry with boldness that some characters in the story, including Harry, will find infuriating.

For those of you who think it is a crappy idea and are not interested, feel free to go about your business of reading _Final Protocol_ as normal. Thanks.

 **FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter 11: Night Out on the Town**

"I want an explanation before I go anywhere with you," Sirius demanded as he looked at Harry. He had Lily's eyes, James's looks, and the infamous scar. There was no doubt in Sirius's mind that he was looking at Harry Potter.

Harry had removed the body bind jinx from Sirius, so that he was now able to stand on the street corner with Harry and Susan, occasionally stepping aside to make room for other pedestrians to pass.

"Why not go somewhere like our home where we could sit down and be more comfortable?" Susan asked.

"I would rather have the explanation up front. I've already fallen into one trap tonight," Sirius complained, addressing himself to Harry.

"Harry and I would rather not stand out here where everyone can see us," Susan said. "Harry dropped out of sight on purpose, and I am officially out of the country. It would be a shame to ruin all of that just to have an argument on a street corner. Surely you don't believe we mean you harm."

Sirius turned and looked Susan, suspicion on his face. "Who are you, and why are you the one calling the shots? I want to hear from Harry." He turned back to Harry. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Harry gestured to Susan with an open hand.

Sirius again turned his attention to Susan.

"He is unable to speak," Susan explained. "I told you that I telepathically arranged the ambush. That is the only way to communicate with Harry, unless . . . well, never mind."

"Why is he unable to speak?" Sirius asked, sounding as if all his worst suspicions about Susan and her intentions had been confirmed.

"Nothing that I did," Susan replied defensively. "At least, I don't think I did anything wrong."

Sirius looked between Harry and Susan several times before speaking again. "Who are you, then?" he asked Susan, now focusing on her.

"My name is Susan Bones," Susan said.

Sirius nodded. "I'm guessing Amelia Bones is your aunt."

"Yes."

"Interesting. And what is your connection to Harry, then?"

Susan paused for a moment, seemingly not entirely sure how to answer. "Up until recently, I have been Harry's around-the-clock nurse. Now, I am more of a foot soldier. So, will you come with us now?"

Sirius's face was a mask of naked suspicion. "Nurse? Foot Soldier? What are you? Paramilitary?"

"Order of the Phoenix, as a matter of fact, to the extent that it can be said to exist," Susan said.

Sirius was already shaking his head. "You can't tell me that Dumbledore is involved with this shenanigan."

Susan shrugged. "Dumbledore died."

"I know for a fact he's alive," Sirius retorted hotly.

"Shush!" Susan said, holding up her hand to silence Sirius. "Dumbledore died. Mad-Eye Moody led the Order for a while. Eventually, he died. Harry took over the Order, with the Weasleys managing the day-to-day affairs. Harry fell in battle and entered a permanent coma. The Order assigned me to evacuate him from the country and hide him overseas. They gave me daggers steeped in blood magic to use as a last resort. They thought the daggers might allow us to travel in time. They were right. The time travel partially revived Harry. Upon arrival at this point in the timeline, Harry was coherent enough to summon me to his side and instruct me to keep him hidden. Since then, we have been having a grand old time. We thought you might want to join our club."

Sirius shrugged. "Okay. I'll go with you. I'm not saying I believe your story, yet. But, it is a good story."

"Great," Susan said. "Take Harry's arm so that he can apparate with you." With that, she drew her wand and disapparated with a pop.

Harry smiled and held out his arm for Sirius. Sirius accepted the arm, and one pop later, Sirius, Harry, and Susan were standing in the living room of a cozy house.

"Welcome to our home," Susan said.

* * *

At Drury Lane, Harry, Susan, and Sirius sat around the kitchen table partaking from a plate of hastily prepared refreshments while Susan explained every aspect of the time travel and what had been happening since she and Harry had arrived in the past.

Harry looked on excitedly and occasionally used his connection to Susan's mind to remind her of various details. He was eager to reestablish a relationship with his godfather and avoid him dying in this timeline.

Sirius seemed to accept what they spoke as the truth, but he seemed to be a bit subdued throughout the entire exchange, which lasted late into the night. Sometimes he seemed excited about the opportunity to change the past, but his questions about details seemed judgmental at times. He did not seem appreciative of the fact that Peter Pettigrew was in a bank vault at Gringotts and that Harry and Susan were probably not going to hand him over to the authorities or Sirius anytime soon.

Eventually, Susan had finished. "So, what do you think?" she asked at Harry's behest.

Sirius shook his head. "I believe you, but I just don't know. I mean . . . why didn't you get me out of Azkaban sooner? It seems like you have done so little. You've got all this knowledge about the future and how to bring down Voldemort and it seems like you're just repeating so many of the events."

Harry and Susan looked at each other. Susan came up with the response first.

"You have to keep in mind that Harry has been incredibly ill up until just recently. Confronting the memory of Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets was a big step for him. Risky, even," Susan said. "And, being too dramatic would call attention to ourselves. We lose the advantage time travel gives us if too much spirals out of control."

"I suppose," Sirius said, sounding unconvinced. He looked around the house. "Did I hear you say that this house was home to both of you?"

"Uh, I guess I did say that," Susan said, blushing.

"So, are you a couple? Married, perhaps?" Sirius inquired.

Harry and Susan looked at each other again, both of their cheeks flaming.

"Well?" Sirius asked.

"The subject hasn't come up, to be honest," Susan said, still blushing. "Harry and I were not all that well acquainted before he went into his permanent coma."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I think being Harry's around-the-clock nurse for more than a decade makes you about as familiar with him as anybody can be. And he's been awake for the last two years of your caring for him. You've been plotting and scheming toward a common purpose. You're both awfully comfortable in this home and with each other. And you're practically in each other's heads all times of the day. I don't know why you two are satisfied to pretend to be school children—even in private."

"W-w-well," Susan sputtered, "it's a big step. We've kind of been occupied with other concerns."

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind. I'm not saying get married right now. I'm just using it as a case study. There's so much you two could be doing with what you know about the future."

"Oh, okay," Susan said, glancing at Harry, who was sitting in a somewhat stunned silence.

Sirius sighed. "You know what, I'm just being too emotional right now. I need time to think. Let's chat in the morning. Do you by chance have a place I could sleep?"

"Just the couch, for now," Susan said. "I imagine it can be transfigured into a proper bed."

Sirius nodded and left the kitchen, leaving Harry and Susan to brood silently.

 _I guess it is bedtime_ , Susan told Harry through their mental link.

Soon, Harry and Susan were standing in the hall in between their bedrooms.

 _Don't take what he said too personally_ , Susan told Harry. _He just got out of Azkaban. He's bound to feel some frustration at anything and everything._

 _He may be right, to some extent_ , Harry admitted.

Susan shrugged. _Maybe. But maybe not._

 _Is he right about us . . . getting married?_ Harry asked. _Do you see yourself continuing to live here with me even after Voldemort is gone?_

Susan pondered this question for several moments. _Harry,_ she said via their telepathic connection, _I have a hard time imagining anything else_. Then, fearing that she had said too much, Susan retreated into her bedroom, silently shut the door, and went to bed, doing her best to avoid contacting Harry's mind.

* * *

Being the first up and in a mood to do some cooking, Susan set to work on a traditional breakfast of eggs, bacon, and potatoes. She was relieved that Harry was still asleep so that she could think over some of the thoughts that had been shared the night before. The bacon soon summoned Sirius to the kitchen.

Seeing a slightly apprehensive expression on Susan's face, Sirius rushed to reassure her. "Look, what I said last night was a little bit over the top, and petulant. I won't say that I'm perfectly comfortable with everything, but we can talk. I'll get over it."

Susan nodded. "I thought as much. It's what you said about marriage that has me feeling nervous."

Sirius let out a chuckle. "You don't have to take that seriously, either. It's just that you two seem to rub together quite well. And of course, you've got red hair, just like how James married a redhead."

"Umm, right," Susan said, not convinced that the color of Lily Potter's hair should have any effect on who Harry chose to marry.

Sirius took a seat at the table while Susan continued to work over a couple of frying pans.

Silence reigned for several minutes until Susan broke it with an overly casual question. "Wouldn't it be difficult for Harry and I to get married, anyway? I mean, in the eyes of the government, we are underage. And, a marriage license would need to be obtained."

"Just get a Muggle marriage, then. Maybe even in a place that doesn't keep very accessible records." Sirius said. "Besides, I sincerely doubt anybody is checking the marriage registry for your name or Harry's."

"That helps keep it anonymous, I guess," Susan said, smiling. "But, what about us being underage?"

"I can emancipate Harry, as his godfather," Sirius said, yawning. "I would think it should not be too hard for you to trick your aunt into signing a permission slip for you to get married. The marriage itself would emancipate you. Say, do you get the _Daily Prophet_ delivered, here?"

"You'd have to ask Harry," Susan said. "My staying here overnight is not yet the typical run of things."

"Can't you ask him telepathically for me?" Sirius whined.

Susan shook her head as she finished with the cooking and began loading everything onto plates. "He's not up yet."

Sirius was eyeing the food with an appreciative gleam in his eye as Susan set it on the table. As soon as she had served herself and was sitting down, Sirius began eating.

"Considering that you are more experienced with magic than I, perhaps you could share your opinion on one thing," Susan said.

"What is that?" Sirius said obligingly as he set to work on his eggs.

Susan shifted, feeling a little bit shy. "How is that Harry and I are suddenly able to communicate mentally ever since we traveled to the past?"

Deep in thought, Sirius gnawed on some bacon and eyed Susan speculatively. "So, in reference to how you activated the time travel magic, you said you stabbed him and then stabbed yourself and then fell onto Harry?"

"Err, yes, that's about how it worked," Susan said, feeling very embarrassed.

Sirius snickered. "I bet you made the front page of the local newspaper without knowing it—if this alternate future reality continued on without you. Probably not, I am thinking."

Susan sighed. "Do you have any theories or not?"

"Two," Sirius declared, helping himself to some seconds. "You must have bled all over Harry and mixed blood. With the magical daggers and blood magic at work, your mental connection may have been an unintended consequence of magic and blood mixing."

"That sounds like some sort of ancient way to bind an oath or relationship," Susan mused. "Could it be that Harry and I are somehow already married by an ancient blood ceremony?"

"Don't be idiotic," Sirius scoffed. "I mean, if you want to do that sort of sick thing at a wedding, be my guest. But without intent to get married, you aren't married."

Susan shrugged, a self-deprecating smile showing on her face. "Okay. What is your other theory?"

"Whoever cast the magic on those daggers may have intended all along for you and Harry to have some sort of mental connection. It may be part of their method for healing Harry. I would be curious to see what happens if you die before Harry dies. I say, could that owl be carrying a _Daily Prophet_?"

Susan turned around and spotted an owl flying toward the window. "Perhaps," she said.

The owl arrived, and instead of a _Daily Prophet_ , it carried a letter for Susan from Luna Lovegood. "Blast!" Susan said, as she removed the letter from the owl's leg an opened it. It did not take a genius to guess what news it carried. Susan quickly read through the letter. "Luna and her father successfully captured a jackalope and are now rushing home to print a special edition of the _Quibbler_. At the rate this owl flew, they may already be home."

"Aren't they your alibi?" Sirius asked. "And what's a jackalope?"

"Yes," Susan sighed, scarfing down the rest of her meal and running upstairs.

* * *

Harry woke up while Susan was packing. While she finished gathering those of her things she was taking back to Amelia's house, Susan explained to Harry, via their mental connection, that the Lovegoods had returned. Upon finishing, she made her way over to Harry's bedroom, where he was sitting up in bed. He budged over and Susan took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she said. "You know, regular visits like before."

 _Don't risk raising suspicion_ , Harry cautioned. _We can stay in contact through our minds._

 _That we can_ , Susan said, making direct eye contact with Harry. _But sometimes, it is nicer to be here, anyway._

Slowly, their faces drifted closer to each other. Suddenly, they were kissing, and neither was entirely sure who had started it.

* * *

Susan stopped by the Lovegood residence for purposes of corroboration. Luna's father was too absorbed in his writing to come out and see Susan, but Luna passed on his best wishes for Susan's recovery from whatever ailment it was that had kept her from sight at all times during the entire expedition to the southwestern United States.

"I half suspect that he thinks you to be a mere imaginary friend of mine," Luna confided.

"Well, so long as he doesn't tell that to my aunt," Susan said.

Luna gave Susan a glowing smile. "He wouldn't embarrass me like that."

"Excellent," Susan said, making her farewells and borrowing a pinch of Floo powder.

She was soon at Aunt Amelia's house where, to Susan's surprise, Aunt Amelia was doing some work from home and was eager to hear the details of Susan's trip. Feeling slightly guilty, Susan described a dry, dusty, and sandy climate and tried to avoid describing any specific interactions with the Lovegoods. "You can read all about it in the _Quibbler_ ," Susan concluded.

Amelia rolled her eyes. "I would be surprised if Lovegood gets any details correct. Now that you are back, it is time that you and I have a proper summer. Spend the next hour unpacking, and then we can go for lunch and do some shopping. I have taken some time off from the Ministry and am hoping that we can take advantage of that to visit, shop, and do a little local tourism."

"That sounds great," Susan said, beaming at her aunt. In reality, though, Susan was becoming distinctly worried. Amelia's intensified interest in Susan, her vacation from the Ministry, and the desire to spend the vacation time with Susan was not something that had happened in the original timeline. And of course, it was going to interfere with Susan's ability to visit with Harry and help him and Sirius plan for the upcoming conflict with Voldemort.

* * *

Despite her worries for the integrity of the timeline, Susan thoroughly enjoyed the day with her aunt, and Susan couldn't help but wonder if part of that enjoyment came from the fact that the time travel had acted to narrow the gap in ages between Amelia and herself. Susan and Amelia's day out ended with a modest supper at the Leaky Cauldron before the two witches returned to Amelia's home.

Once Susan was alone in her room, she reached out to Harry through the mental connection as she began preparing for an early bedtime. _And how has the day been?_

 _Sirius won't stop talking to me_ , came Harry's irate response. _And he talks loudly, as if I am deaf or something._

Susan laughed out loud as she sat down to brush her hair.

 _He's talked himself into believing that he was too harsh on us last night_ , Harry continued. He left for a while, and I thought I had escaped the nuisance, but he came back with some take-out from a restaurant. _Now, he's moved onto the life story of my parents and himself. I suppose that isn't so bad._

 _No, I would imagine not_ , Susan responded, vaguely wishing that she was there to share the moments with Harry. Suspecting that Harry would want to focus in on Sirius's new topic, Susan let the conversation drop. After several more minutes, Susan realized that Amelia had received some visitors into the house. She could hear the muffled tones of conversation coming from a sitting room downstairs.

Curious, Susan grabbed her bathrobe and stealthily made her way to a position from where she could more clearly hear what Amelia's visitors had to say.

"I understand your hesitancy, Amos," came a familiar voice. Susan thought it sounded like Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour. "Can you really overlook everything that has happened on Minister Fudge's watch, though? Harry Potter has disappeared. Death Eaters marched through Diagon Alley immediately after. Death Eater sightings have been reported, even if not Death Eater crimes. Then there was the debacle at Hogwarts with Quirrell being murdered, almost literally under Dumbledore's nose, and then the Heir of Slytherin and Heir of Hufflepuff nonsense being carried out for nearly an entire year."

A loud sigh followed. "But Rufus, Amelia . . . I feel that forming a committee, the goal of which is to replace Minister Fudge, is an overly strong reaction. Surely there could be an inquiry in the Wizengamot, instead."

"And what happens when we take our concerns to the Wizengamot?" Amelia asked. "How many of You-Know-Who's sympathizer's sit there and will be happy to block our efforts by extolling Minister Fudge's alleged virtues and convincing others to trust that Fudge knows what he is doing?"

"Well . . . if you put it that way," Amos grumbled.

There was a silence where nobody spoke for several moments.

"Is there anybody else harboring your opinions?" Amos asked.

A small pause elicited a response from Amelia. "We've approached a number of individuals."

"And?"

"There's some hesitancy, but mostly from fear that there are no other allies. We're looking for other like-minded individuals. You don't have to decide now, we're just putting out feelers," Rufus said as a few sounds indicated to Susan that the three had stood up from their seats.

Susan quickly retreated to her bedroom, searching her memory to see if there were ever signs from her aunt of a bid to become Minister of Magic.

* * *

"I cannot say for sure without knowing more about the alternate future, but I would have to agree that your actions have caused Amelia to depart from the original events," Sirius mused. "Now, we must decide what we are going to do about it."

Harry, Susan, and Sirius had gathered in the kitchen at Harry and Susan's house in Hogsmeade. Harry and Sirius were at the kitchen table while Susan was attempting to recreate a fancy desert she had seen prepared on a cooking show.

"Harry is inclined to support my aunt's efforts, though he does not want it consuming all of our time," Susan informed Sirius as she stepped into the pantry to find some sugar.

"Okay, then," Sirius said, trying to maintain face contact with both Harry and Susan as the conversation progressed—a difficult task with one at the table and the other bustling around the kitchen and pantry. "You two have already told me that you plan for Harry to reveal himself and attend Hogwarts during the upcoming school year. Here is what I am thinking."

Sirius then laid out a plan. After some discussion, appropriate modifications, and fine tuning—all while Susan finished preparing the desert and serving it to everyone and herself—the only question left was timing.

 _Introducing me into magical society is going to consume a lot of our time_ , Harry told Susan sourly. _Let's get it over with as soon as possible so that we can focus on the next steps toward taking down Voldemort._

"We should get started today," Susan told Sirius.

* * *

 _She's here,_ Susan signaled Harry telepathically. Susan then shifted her attention outward to watch as the Granger family, led by Hermione, picked their way through the Leaky Cauldron's dining room toward where Susan and her aunt were sitting. Susan stood to greet Hermione.

Upon making the acquaintance of Hermione's parents, Susan introduced the Grangers to Amelia. Soon, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were speaking animatedly with Amelia, who seemed somewhat more reserved, while Susan and Hermione had their own conversation.

"This was a splendid idea," Hermione said, beaming at Susan. "Our holiday plans were such that I would have had to do my school shopping at the last moment. But shopping for basics now and owl ordering the rest later will save so much time. And then, of course, my parents were ever so pleased for the opportunity to become better acquainted with an adult witch, especially one placed so highly in the government."

"I'm just glad that I thought to schedule this little get-to-together before your family left for you holiday," Susan said. "Since owling you the details of our outing, I've come up with a new idea. As soon as the Hogwarts letters come, you can send in the owl orders. Then, instead of you having them owl everything, I will pick everything up and meet you at the Hogwarts Express. I'm sure I'll be here in Diagon Alley at least once between Hogwarts letters and the first of September."

Hermione was already nodding. "If you wouldn't mind, that would save a lot on the shipping costs."

* * *

After lunch, the Grangers, Susan, and Amelia made their way to Diagon Alley proper to begin their shopping expedition. Under Amelia's supervision and encouragement, the group moved efficiently through the bank and shops, though Hermione forced them to linger in the bookstore for longer than was necessary for the Grangers to pick up the necessary owl order form. Soon, the group headed back to the Leaky Cauldron to commence a foray into Muggle London with the Grangers serving as tour guides for Susan and Amelia.

"I am not confident that this is a good idea," Amelia told Susan quietly as they followed the Grangers onto a Muggle sidewalk and into a crowd of Muggle pedestrians.

"But I want to learn more about the Muggle world," Susan told Amelia. "Surely it cannot hurt for you to learn, also."

"Perhaps," Amelia said, her lips pursed as she and Susan followed the Grangers onto a public bus.

The bus dropped the group off at a movie theater where they all bought tickets for a movie.

 _Everything is on track,_ Susan signaled Harry.

* * *

Susan loved the movie. Though she had become accustomed to television through long years of watching Harry and having little entertainment, she had never had the pleasure of enjoying a movie on a big screen in the company of a large audience.

Amelia, on the other hand, seemed to think it all very strange. However, she did warm up to the idea of dinner. Surely, Muggle food could not be so strange as Muggle entertainment. Before the adults could settle on where the group was to have dinner, Susan interjected. "The Grangers should choose where we eat!"

"Of course, dear," Amelia said, looking at Susan quizzically. "That was the plan, was it not?"

"Yes," Susan said, beaming a smile. She did not care if she had made herself look like an idiot. The key was for everybody to have it firmly in their mind that the Grangers had controlled Susan and Amelia's agenda.

* * *

At the Muggle restaurant, Susan was carefully analyzing every aspect of the food and chatting with Hermione when Harry reached out to her telepathically.

 _Sirius wants to change the plan._

 _What?_ Susan exclaimed mentally as she took a sip of water and eyed her surroundings. The group was sitting at a table near the street-facing windows of the restaurant the Grangers had chosen.

 _Basically, he wants things to be more obvious. Just go with it. The effect should practically be the same._ Harry responded.

Susan could not help but feel somewhat apprehensive. In just a few days, she had already come to appreciate the impetuous Marauder-like tendencies Sirius possessed.

Ultimately, Susan was not disappointed. While the server was asking the group whether they would be ordering desert, an explosion and accompanying flames ripped through the street outside of the restaurant. It looked powerful and deadly, but Susan, who had been expecting some sort of controlled catastrophe, was quick to note that the windows of the restaurant did not shatter—they only developed a few cracks.

Within seconds, Amelia Bones, her wand drawn, was darting toward the door of the restaurant before anybody else, aside from Susan, could fully comprehend what was happening.

Despite knowing there was no danger outside, Susan also drew her wand as she made her way to the door. To her credit, Hermione followed Susan, but with no wand. It seemed that Hermione had left her wand at home, likely because of the restrictions against underage magic use.

By the time Susan and Hermione arrived on the street, Amelia had already determined that the immediate danger had passed. Still, she was annoyed to see Susan and Hermione putting themselves into what could have been a highly dangerous situation.

"You should have taken cover inside," she firmly told the two girls as she looked up and down the street, her eyes in every direction.

Hermione changed the subject before Amelia could say anything else. She had spotted Harry lying on the street near a bus stop. "Look, someone has been wounded or killed! We should go help."

"I'm calling this in," Amelia said. "You two go check, and I'll catch up. But be cautious!"

"Right," Susan said, suppressing a smile.

* * *

Harry was beginning to wish that he had cast a cushioning charm on the pavement beneath him before assuming his prone position. Trying to ignore the discomfort, Harry focused on playing his part. It was not long before the show began.

"I say, are you okay?" Hermione Granger demanded as she knelt next to Harry and looked down into his face.

Instead of making eye contact, Harry focused on the sky above, as if he did not comprehend that anybody was near him or talking to him. It was hard, though. He dearly wanted to sit up and give his old, now young, friend a hug.

Susan's face came into sight. Instead of kneeling next to Harry, she stood and peered down at him.

 _Where is your aunt?_ Harry asked Susan telepathically.

 _She should be here in a few seconds_ , Susan responded, her face impassive as she looked back toward the restaurant, subtly gesturing toward where Amelia was standing. Susan then spoke aloud to Hermione. "It looks like he is in some sort of shock."

"Let's prop up his feet, then," Hermione said beginning to sound less frantic and more officious.

"Uh . . . okay," Susan responded.

Hermione began looking around. "I don't see anything we can use, though."

Susan rolled her eyes at Harry but spoke to Hermione. "Here, we can use my lap until help comes," she said, sitting down on the pavement and shifting so that Harry's feet could rest on her lap.

Hermione promptly lifted Harry's feet onto Susan's lap.

 _What I really could use from you is some mouth-to-mouth_ , Harry quipped to Susan as he continued to maintain his vacant stare at the sky.

 _Maybe later_ , Susan told Harry. _Try to focus on having a strangely magical aura for everybody but me to notice._

 _Oh right, nearly forgot about that._

Hermione, meanwhile, continued her frantic ministrations until Amelia Bones came over. "Who have we here?" she asked after informing Susan and Hermione that help and reinforcements were on the way, even though the danger seemed over.

"I don't know. He seems to be in shock," Hermione responded. "He has not spoken a word to us."

"Can you hear us?" Amelia asked, looking down at Harry.

Harry ignored Amelia's question and continued his vacant stare.

Amelia was now frowning as she looked into Harry's face. Slowly, she knelt next to him and reached out to push the hair on his forehead up far enough to reveal that famous scar. Upon seeing it, she let out a deep breath nobody had noticed her holding. "I do believe that this is Harry Potter."

Hermione gasped.

 _And it begins_ , Harry said to Susan.


	13. Chapter 12: The Damages

**FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter 12: The Damages**

The staff at St. Mungo's placed Harry in a private ward. It shielded Harry from other patients and visitors. But, the privacy gave the St. Mungo's staff more room to swarm over Harry. Multiple St. Mungo's staff members poked, prodded, and asked questions.

Harry did not bother answering any questions. Instead, he stared off into space, pretending to be catatonic. In short order, the staffers concluded that Harry was, indeed, catatonic. This was no small feat for Harry. He had avoided flinching as at least a dozen staffers had poked his scar and waved their fingers in front of his eyes.

A gruff, female voice with a Dutch accent ended the circus. "Non-essential staff out. Now!"

Within about fifteen seconds, the only person left in the room with Harry was a stout witch. From the comments of the staff streaming out of the room, Harry deduced that this was the Healer Furmreer. Her hair had once been dark, but the gray had crept in.

Lightly, she stepped across the room toward Harry, took his chin in her hands, and began casting diagnostic spells. As she cast each spell, considered the result, and then cast another, Harry felt himself beginning to relax.

Eventually, she broke Harry's reverie with her diagnosis. "You are not quite as catatonic as you would have us believe," she said drily. "But, I am not about to deny that you need medical attention. We can talk about that tomorrow. For now, you should get yourself a good night's sleep."

Healer Furmreer then walked out of the room. Within seconds, a nurse came in and began helping Harry prepare for bed. As soon as Harry was in bed and alone, he reached out to Susan through the mental connection.

 _Well, it's over_ , Harry informed Susan. _The healer says I have an entire six weeks to live._

 _What?!_ Susan exclaimed.

 _Just kidding_ , Harry responded. Susan did not reply immediately. Yet, Harry almost imagined that he could feel her fuming.

 _You're going to pay for that, mister_. Susan finally said.

* * *

Bemused, Hermione, who was standing with Susan, stared as several dozen reporters streamed into the St. Mungo's lobby and began demanding answers from the St. Mungo's staff about rumors of Harry Potter's admission to the hospital.

Abruptly Susan gasped.

Hermione turned toward her friend only to see that Susan was now looking decidedly miffed.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing at all, apparently," Susan said curtly. "Please excuse me. I need to visit the loo."

"All right," Hermione said, turning her attention back watching the reporters congregate and demand answers.

Only a few moments after Susan had disappeared, Amelia Bones emerged from where she had been meeting with the hospital staff. She surveyed the gathered reporters with a small smile on her face as they turned their attentions to her. Hermione felt shocked when Amelia stepped to her side, put a controlling hand on her shoulder, and launched a press conference.

"The rumor that Harry Potter has been admitted to St. Mungo's is, indeed, correct," Director Bones confessed.

"How was he found?" one or two reporters yelled out.

Amelia smiled before launching into a full explanation. "There was an incident in Muggle London earlier this evening. I was dining at a restaurant with my niece, her Muggleborn schoolfriend, and that friend's parents when an explosion ripped through the street. Fortunately, I was there to assess and take control of the situation. I was in that process when my niece's friend, Hermione Granger, here, spotted an individual lying on the street as if injured. She led my niece over to help. When I checked on them, I quickly identified that their patient was Harry Potter."

Questions exploded from the reporters, but Amelia ignored them. She began recounting what a disaster Harry Potter's disappearance had been and what steps ought to be taken now that Harry Potter was safe and secure.

As Director Bones addressed the media, she released Hermione's shoulder. Hermione crept away and started walking in the direction that Susan had disappeared on her quest for the loo, pondering what had just happened. Upon Hermione's inquiry, a hospital worker gave Hermione directions for how she could go to another floor to find a loo instead of having to go back and trek through the lobby.

Hermione found Susan before arriving at the loo. Susan seemed occupied with something she was seeing in one of the wards.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione asked.

"Neville and his parents," Susan said sadly, gesturing to a window that granted a view into the ward.

"He lives with his grandmother, right?" Hermione asked as she approached Susan and spotted Neville in the ward, interacting with a man and a woman who clearly were mental patients.

Susan nodded. "Yes, his parents did not emerge from the war unscathed, I fear."

"Oh." Hermione seemed about to ask Susan some questions, but Neville, accompanied by his grandmother, was on his way out of the ward.

"Hello, Neville," Susan said as soon as Neville emerged.

"Hey," Hermione said, joining in with Susan's greeting.

Neville beamed at the two witches. "Susan, Hermione! What are you two doing here?"

Hermione quickly and breathlessly explained the situation as Neville and his grandmother gaped.

"So, Harry Potter is _here_?" Neville asked.

Susan nodded. "And, that is all we know. How are your parents?"

Neville suddenly seemed shy. Yet, he did not seem as despondent as one might assume. "They are never that well," Neville said to Hermione and Susan. "But, there has been some good news. Several months ago, Professor Snape forwarded to their healer an experimental potion recipe that one of his students accidentally brewed. Once the potion was approved for medical use, they started using the potion on my parents."

"And?" Susan asked.

"The potion has helped!" Neville said excitedly.

The Longbottom matriarch sighed. "Not enough. Let us not get our hopes too high."

"Still, that is good news!" Hermione exclaimed looking to Susan for agreement.

Susan nodded, but seemed to be deep in thought.

Hermione continued to offer encouragement and optimism until Neville's grandma ended the meeting by noting the time aloud. Soon, Hermione and Susan were alone in the hall, with Hermione updating Susan on what had happened right after she had left.

As soon as Hermione's explanation was finished, Susan let out a slightly embarrassed smile.

"I am sorry to say that my aunt has used you for her political aspirations," Susan confessed. "And, I have benefitted as much as she has."

Hermione frowned as Susan's words confirmed her half-hatched suspicions. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"You will recall that before the beginning of our first year at Hogwarts that the _Quibbler_ accused me of kidnapping Harry Potter."

Hermione nodded.

"Well," Susan said, "you can imagine that me being present at Harry's reappearance is somewhat hard to explain. It makes me look suspicious. By extension, it makes my aunt look suspicious. So, that is why I wandered off as soon as the news reporters arrived. And, I am afraid, that is why my aunt went to great pains to identify you as the one who discovered Harry Potter. She wants to downplay my involvement."

"But, I did discover Harry," Hermione said. "It was I who spotted him on the ground."

"True enough," Susan nodded. "Though, I fear that you being identified publicly as the one who discovered him will cause you some inconvenience. The press, you know."

Hermione shrugged. "I am going on holiday with my parents."

Susan nodded in agreement. "Things will have died down by the time you return."

"You will keep me updated, won't you?" Hermione said.

"I'll try," Susan said. "But really, you can keep up in the _Daily Prophet_. My aunt is unlikely to tell me more about Harry Potter than she will tell the public."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Hence, your suggestion on the Hogwarts Express that I read the newspaper this summer."

Susan put on a blasé facial expression and winked.

* * *

Healer Furmreer was about to begin her report on Harry Potter's medical status to Amelia Bones when the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, blustered into the conference room.

"What is going on here?" Fudge demanded. He stared at Amelia suspiciously. "Why wasn't I notified sooner? And, why does the DMLE need to know about Harry Potter's medical status?"

Amelia maintained a neutral façade in the face of Fudge's wrath and stupidity. "We need to understand the forensic details so that I know where to take my investigation."

"Of course, of course," Fudge said, backtracking and nodding to Furmreer. "You may begin your report."

Healer Furmreer arched an eyebrow at both the politicians. "Is that so?"

"Yes. And do not leave any important details out," Fudge directed, beginning to sound more in his element.

"Quite," Furmreer said. She paused and then launched into her explanation of Harry's status. "It appears that Mr. Potter has suffered catastrophic spell damage. In fact, the damage is so extensive that it is unclear how he even survived the initial blast of whatever spells caused the damage in the first place."

Amelia frowned. "He looked fine to me when I brought him in. And, the explosion spell in the street has been confirmed to be the only magic occurring in the vicinity."

"The damage is not physical. The damage touches on what you might call his spirit. Despite being in adequate physical health, Mr. Potter should be nearly a vegetable." Furmreer explained. "As for you not detecting the spells that caused it, I am not surprised. The damage is not recent. I would estimate that it is several years in the past."

"Merlin," Fudge breathed. "How serious is this damage? And, what do you mean that it is not recent? When did it happen? Could it be a leftover from You Know Who attempting to kill him?"

Furmreer smiled grimly. "As I said originally, the damage is catastrophic. And yet, there is relatively little to worry about. You see, Mr. Potter has found a way to compensate. Or, perhaps fate has provided the compensation for Mr. Potter."

"How is he compensating?" Amelia asked.

Healer Furmreer leaned forward in her chair. "When I examined Mr. Potter, I detected that he has established a sort of soul bond with another individual. A magical individual, as best I can tell. Mr. Potter's soul bond is not precisely the all-encompassing soul bond you read about in trashy romances. However, the soul bond is enough that Mr. Potter can draw on his so-called soul mate's faculties to compensate for what he has irretrievably lost. I would also imagine that the soul mate has benefitted. For instance, I detect that Harry Potter is a remarkably powerful wizard. I am guessing that the soul mate is more powerful because of the soul bond."

Amelia Bones blinked several times as she tried to absorb this new information. Eventually, she started asking questions while Minister Fudge struggled to wrap his head around this development.

"So, how would this soul bond have developed or been initiated?"

"The origin of Mr. Potter's soul bond is not apparent to me," Furmreer responded. "There are all sorts of soul bonds and all sorts of causes. It could be congenital, accidental, evolutionary, designed, or all of the above."

"Okay, then," Amelia said. "Would the person to whom Mr. Potter is bonded know of this bond and can we identify him or her?"

Furmreer was already shrugging. "Both mates might be aware, and both mates might be ignorant. Or somewhere in between. And, knowing the bond exists does not necessarily make the mates aware of each other's identity."

"And, I am guessing the mate could be anybody," Amelia said.

"Yes."

"So, the bond angle is likely a dead end," Amelia mused as she made eye contact with Minister Fudge, making a token effort to include him in the discussion. "I think it would be better to focus on the damage angle."

"I think we could hunt down the soul mate," Fudge said, resisting Amelia's subtle attempt to guide the Ministry's next steps. "It would be important to find the soul mate. After all, this soul mate is basically Mr. Potter's life support system, right?"

"Indeed," Furmreer said.

"We need to make sure that person is protected and properly supervised." Fudge said.

"Perhaps," Amelia mused. Yet, she was not particularly interested in the identity of the soul mate. She turned back to Furmreer. "Tell me what you can about the magic that could have done this damage. I think we need to hone in on when, where, and how all of this happened."

"There is You-Know-Who," Furmreer said. "Getting hit with a killing curse while a baby cannot have been good for Mr. Potter."

It was at this juncture that Professor Dumbledore swept into the room. "I understand you have already examined Mr. Potter," he said to Healer Furmreer.

"Yes," Furmreer said, rising to greet the aged headmaster. "It is an interesting situation." She then launched into a long, and more detailed, repetition of everything she had already told Bones and Fudge. It almost seemed like she was trying to impress the aged Headmaster.

By the end of the full explanation, Dumbledore was frowning. "Mr. Potter was fully examined on the night of the attack against his parents. These developments did not happen because of Lord Voldemort attempting to kill Harry. It is more recent than that."

"Let's focus on what kind of magic caused it and who is capable of that magic, then," Amelia suggested.

"Yes, let us do that," Dumbledore said. "As for the soul bond, I think it would be better for us to avoid that conversation. You see, James and Lily Potter arranged for Sirius Black to look after Harry, should anything happen. I think it falls to Mr. Black to worry about the soul bond. We should focus on the crime that has been committed."

"Unbelievable!" Cornelius Fudge said. "We cannot let Sirius Black take charge of Mr. Potter!"

"I do not think you will have much choice, Minister," Amelia said as the wheels in her head began to spin.

Minister Fudge opened his mouth to argue, but a tap on the door heralded the arrival of Sirius Black, who was ushered into the room by an orderly.

"I came as soon as I heard on the wireless," Sirius said, visibly choking back tears.

"Harry is going to be okay," Dumbledore said, rushing to reassure Sirius.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Sirius breathed. "Tell me what is happening."

Minister Fudge shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Black, but what with your recent . . . status, I just do not think it is appropriate for you to be involved."

"Excuse me?" Sirius said, staring at Minister Fudge with a certain amount of malevolence.

"Cornelius," Dumbledore said, "this matter simply is not within Ministry discretion. The law clearly favors Mr. Black's status as Harry's guardian, particularly after the Ministry has vindicated Mr. Black in all respects."

Amelia was no dummy. She quickly took the winning side. "I'm afraid they may be right, Minister," she said. "But, perhaps we can discuss some options later. I'll make sure you get a full report by tomorrow."

"See that you do," Minister Fudge said gruffly before making an ungracious exit from the room.

As soon as Fudge was gone, Dumbledore and Furmreer launched into a full explanation of everything they had learned about Harry's status while Amelia looked on and searched for ways to helpfully interject herself into the dynamics in such a way as to earn Sirius's favor.

* * *

One of Amelia's flunkies had taken Hermione home for the night, but Susan was still at St. Mungo's, sitting in a hallway. It had occurred to her that some of the potions in Harry's former regimen might be just what Neville's parents needed. She was thinking about how to help Neville's parents, but was pulled out of her reverie by the arrival of Amelia and Sirius.

"This is my niece, Susan, who was there when your godson was discovered on the street," Amelia informed Sirius.

Sirius immediately clasped one of Susan's hands between his own and crouched to look directly into Susan's eyes. "Dear child," he said dramatically, "I'm sure the assistance you rendered my godson was the difference between life and death. Harry and I owe you an overwhelming debt of gratitude. I don't know how we'll ever be able to repay you."

Susan nodded solemnly. "Yes, if it were not for me allowing Harry's feet to be placed in my lap as soon as I did, I am sure he would now have no hope of recovery."

Sirius nodded in agreement while Amelia looked on with a bemused expression on her face.

"I'm on my way to Harry's room to check on his status," Sirius declared. "Would you like to come with me and have a chance to see him again? He might not be able to thank you yet, but I would like to think he could."

Susan looked up to her aunt to see if she would give permission.

"Just Floo directly home after you're finished," Amelia directed. "I'm afraid that I will need go into the office immediately."

Susan smiled. "Okay."

Sirius promptly led Susan to a waiting nurse. The nurse led them to the hallway outside of Harry's room, giving them strict instructions not to wake Harry up. Promising not to disturb Harry, Sirius and Susan entered the room. While Sirius erected various wards to prevent eavesdropping, Susan walked to the bedside and lightly slapped Harry across the face.

"Pull another stunt like that and you'll not like what happens next," Susan said firmly.

Harry looked up into Susan's face and smiled warmly.

"Eh, what is going on?" Sirius asked as soon as he had secured the room.

"Nothing," Susan said.

"Okay," Sirius said, choosing to ignore the byplay between Harry and Susan. "You two will both be thrilled to know that the mission has been completed successfully. Harry will be coming home with me as soon as he qualifies for discharge."

Susan nodded. "I have it on good information that Harry will qualify for discharge tomorrow morning—right after breakfast. Or, possibly before, depending on what is served."

"Perfect," Sirius declared. "Now, that's the good news. The bad news is that Harry has been diagnosed with catastrophic spell damage—so catastrophic, in fact, that he probably should be in a coma."

"That's old news," Susan said.

Sirius sighed as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "I'm afraid that it is not as old as you might think it is. You see, Harry really should be in a coma. The only reason he is not a vegetable is that …. Well, it is because you two seem to have a soul bond."

Harry's face betrayed that he was startled. Susan only appeared thoughtful.

"It makes sense," Susan said as she took a seat on the edge of Harry's bed. She looked Harry in the face. "We've been able to communicate telepathically, we can sense each other's presence, and we can sometimes sense each other's feelings. Plus, last year, I got that so-called forest fever the same week Harry went cold turkey."

 _I suppose it does make sense_ , Harry admitted through the telepathic link.

"I'll leave it to you two to work through the ramifications of that revelation," Sirius said, "though I will opine that your good friend Hermione probably incorporated soul bond magic into that Final Protocol ritual. You should probably also keep in mind that it would be ideal if nobody finds out anything about this soul bond. Minister Fudge already wants to get a handle on whoever Harry's soul mate is."

Harry gritted his teeth as soon as he heard Fudge's name.

"We won't advertise," Susan sighed. "It may be that Harry and I will need to maintain something of a distance while at Hogwarts this coming year. But, we can always chat telepathically." She hopped off the bed. "Speaking of which, if I spend much more time in here with you two, tongues will start wagging."

Sirius nodded and stood up. "Let me escort you to the Floo." He looked at Harry. "Don't worry, I shall return."

Soon, Susan and Sirius were walking down the hall. Once they had put distance between themselves and Harry's room, Sirius reached out and stopped Susan by touching her shoulder lightly. Susan stopped, looked both ways down the hall for potential eavesdroppers, and raised a questioning eyebrow at Sirius.

"That was some pretty . . . heavy news I broke back there, and your reaction was kind of blasé," Sirius commented.

Susan shrugged. "The soul bond news is only a diagnosis of symptoms Harry and I have been experiencing for nearly two years. If I was a more curious witch, I might have diagnosed the condition myself sooner."

"I can see where you're coming from," Sirius admitted. "But, let's not kid ourselves. Harry is probably back in the hospital room struggling to come to grips with all of this. Yet, you are not."

Susan smiled wanly at Sirius and gave the slightest of nods to confirm Sirius's suspicions about Harry's reaction to the news. "But, I think you'll find that what bothers him the most is the news about the catastrophic spell damage to his mind. He's smart enough to know that he's already undergone all sorts of care for many years. For the first several months after we arrived here, I was dosing him with potions that have not even been invented yet. At some point, Harry is going to wonder whether there are any other potential remedies out there."

Sirius turned Susan's response over in his mind, still trying to understand Susan's ability to take the diagnosis in stride. Eventually, understanding blossomed onto his face. "You came to grips with the spell damage diagnosis many years ago, didn't you?"

"Yes, along with the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix," Susan confirmed. "It was awful, really. Wizards and witches were out there dying or surrendering. The Order was having to make irreversible decisions that were gambles on whether Harry would recover sooner or later. It seemed like at every central Order meeting there was some new remedy or some new potion and everybody would get their hopes up, only to be disappointed."

Sirius shook his head sadly.

"And eventually, they gave up on him, and sent him overseas with me. I got used to him being in a coma and was fully expecting to spend decades more watching him. So, really, we're further ahead of where we could have been if it were not for the time travel," Susan concluded.

"Okay, I see where you are coming from," Sirius said, beginning to walk again.

Susan also began walking and kept up pace.

"Any tips for the next few days?" Sirius asked. "I am guessing that you will not be around during some of the more public interactions Harry and I are about to have."

"He hates the Ministry and reporters," Susan said. "Particularly, he hates Rita Skeeter."

"Me, too," Sirius scowled.

"What did she do to you?" Susan asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Sirius grumbled.

"Fair enough," Susan said as they approached the hospital lobby. "I think you've walked me far enough. There might be reporters out there, and I don't want the public to know that we're too cozy."

Sirius grinned mischievously. "Let me go out first. I'll keep them distracted."

Susan grinned. "Good idea."

* * *

"I don't want to be rude, Harry, but you are a bit of a dull dog," Sirius declared.

Harry scowled at Sirius before taking a sip of pumpkin juice from the bottle that had come with his breakfast tray.

A knock sounded on the door.

"And that is why I am going to go chat up whoever it is that has come to visit us," Sirius said as he stood up and made his way toward the door to see who was knocking. On the other side, he found Professor Dumbledore.

"Hello, Sirius. May I come in?" Dumbledore asked.

"Harry is still eating breakfast," Sirius hedged as he looked back toward Harry for any sign as to what Harry wanted.

"That's all right," Dumbledore said, slipping into the room. He conjured a purple recliner across from the chair that Sirius had been using. But, before sitting, he went to Harry's bedside and introduced himself.

Other than looking at Dumbledore with what seemed to be a warm expression, Harry made no response to the introduction.

"So," Dumbledore said as he sat down, "how has Harry been doing?" He glanced over at Harry to see if being the subject of the conversation had raised Harry's interest. It did not seem that it had because Harry was focused intently on eating his breakfast.

Sirius sniffed, seemingly holding back his grief. "He is doing well. He is such a brave little boy."

Dumbledore nodded sagely as Sirius snuck a peek at Harry's face. Harry was still eating, as if oblivious to the conversation, but Sirius thought he could detect irritation from how Harry was chewing his bacon.

"What brings you here this morning?" Sirius inquired briskly, moving onto more serious business.

Dumbledore spread his hands. "I am here to offer my help. There must be so many concerns."

Sirius nodded. "And which of those concerns is most concerning to you?" he asked slyly.

"Well, surely you'll want to consider enrolling Harry at Hogwarts. After all, I believe his letter was delivered to Gringotts a couple of years ago." Dumbledore said. "He has already fallen behind."

The ulterior motive was clear to Sirius. If Harry was at Hogwarts, Dumbledore could exert his influence and take care of multiple other concerns. Sirius felt a visceral urge to rebel against what seemed like manipulation. However, it was Harry's intention to attend Hogwarts, and it was Sirius's job to ensure that Harry could do so on the best possible terms.

Sirius commenced the negotiations. "I could see Harry being enrolled at Hogwarts beginning this fall, if certain arrangements were in place," Sirius began.

* * *

The discussion with Professor Dumbledore had lasted all morning. An intensive evaluation session with Healer Furmreer followed, and it lasted most of the afternoon. After promising to attend follow up appointments, Harry and Sirius escaped from the hospital just as evening was setting in.

At Harry and Susan's house in Hogsmeade, Harry and Sirius were pleasantly surprised to find Susan in the middle of serving a delicious dinner as the television blared in the background.

"It seems that Harry's reappearance has tripled my aunt's workload," Susan informed Harry and Sirius.

"No complaints here," Sirius declared as he sat at the table.

The topics of conversation at the dinner table were light in nature. Harry, Susan, and Sirius shared laughs over how a lot of the events of the past day had played out. They carefully avoided discussion of anything else. When it looked like the conversation might evolve into something weightier, Sirius retreated to his bedroom in the basement, leaving Harry and Susan to do the dishes.

 _The healer did a thorough examination_ , Harry told Susan as they began washing the dishes. _She's going to meet with Sirius tomorrow to talk about my long-term treatment._

"That's good," Susan observed as she accepted a dish from Harry and began toweling it dry. "I hope she is able to come up with some ideas." She didn't know what else to say. It was unclear to her whether Harry viewed it as an intrusion or whether he was harboring hope that Healer Furmreer would be able to completely cure him.

Harry abruptly changed the subject as he moved onto scrubbing a pan as Susan finished drying the last dinner plate. _So, a soul bond. I guess that is pretty serious stuff._

 _Yes_ , Susan agreed. _But we're already used to having a soul bond. Putting a name on our condition doesn't change what we've already been experiencing._

 _Yeah, but there are implications._

"I suppose so," Susan agreed aloud.


	14. Chapter 13: Command Performance

**FINAL PROTOCOL**

 **Lord Silvere**

 **Chapter 13: Command Performance**

Over the course of the next few weeks, Harry and Sirius continued to meet regularly with Healer Furmreer. The healer's intense focus on Harry's condition and her display of expertise had caused an inkling of hope for a full recovery to blossom in Harry's heart. But, this hope did not last.

As soon as Harry realized that the healer's prescriptions all amounted to nothing more than physical therapy, he concluded that she had not yet found a reason for his inability to speak, let alone a cure. This proved to be disheartening.

Sirius and Susan were both supportive throughout that time, but only Sirius and Harry spent any energy worrying about whether a cure would be found. Despite being considerate of Harry's feelings on the subject and providing words of encouragement, Susan had already come to grips with Harry's condition.

Susan was at the Drury Lane house whenever her aunt was at work, which proved to be often. Harry's mysterious reappearance had caused Amelia extra work, as had her ambitions to become Minister of Magic.

Because of the frequency of Harry's treatments and his habit of wanting to be alone when depressed, Susan and Sirius often found themselves keeping each other entertained. Mostly, they gave each other bad advice about interests and hobbies they did not share.

Susan did not know how to help Sirius with dating, and Sirius had no clue about cooking and did not care to learn. There was one exception, though. When Susan took to barbequing one week, Sirius insisted on joining in on the action and leading a short expedition to Texas to buy supplies.

While Harry and Susan busied themselves with healing and cooking, respectively, Sirius's chief contribution was keeping curious medical staff, Ministry officials, and Hogwarts professors out of Harry's business. He largely succeeded, with the notable exception of Professor Dumbledore.

In the case of the aged headmaster, Sirius was able to work out highly favorable arrangements for Harry, but only after promising Dumbledore that he could meet with Harry and tag along when Harry and Sirius went to purchase Harry's wand.

Assuming that the visit and excursion with Professor Dumbledore went well, Harry, with a few exceptions, would be permitted to go to most classes with the third-year students so that he would not feel socially displaced.

The exceptions worked in Harry's favor. Snape had refused to allow an ignoramus like Harry into any of his classes, let alone his third-year potion classes, and Dumbledore had strongly implied that extra classes like Divination would be a waste of time for one in Harry's position.

In exchange for Harry being allowed into some third-year classes, Sirius had solemnly sworn to Dumbledore that he would personally see to it that Harry was brought up to speed in all subjects by the end of Harry's fifth year, even if home tutoring was necessary.

Of course, in order for this home tutoring to occur, Professor Dumbledore would be obliged to permit Harry to come and go between the castle and the house at Drury Lane as often as Harry wished.

With so many concessions, one less bold than Sirius would have been satisfied, but Sirius kept pushing and suggested to Dumbledore that it would be nice if, when visiting Hogsmeade, Harry could bring along friends, if he happened to make any.

The price of this concession from the headmaster was somewhat steeper, but was not a heavy burden. It seemed that Remus Lupin had agreed to serve as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and would occasionally be needing a substitute. If Sirius would kindly agree to become a part-time professor, Dumbledore could see his way to allowing students to leave the Hogwarts grounds under his supervision.

Sirius explained the situation to Harry and Susan one night at dinner. In exchange for all of his negotiating work, Sirius received a wide smile of appreciation from Harry, a large slice of cherry chocolate cake from Susan, and a pat on the back from himself.

* * *

At the conclusion of the eighth month, Albus Dumbledore appeared on the doorstep of the Drury Lane house and was shown into the living room, where he met Harry for the first time since seeing him pretending to be catatonic at St. Mungo's.

Once again, he introduced himself to Harry. This time, Harry put on a show of being alert, responsive, and warm, though he studiously avoided eye contact. Dumbledore was impressed, but slightly frustrated.

"He's made progress," Dumbledore observed, his blue eyes twinkling at Harry through his spectacles.

"Yes," Sirius said. "As I was telling you, the only problem is he cannot speak. Everything else with him is fine. He's a smart and good kid."

Dumbledore, who had yet to meet a parent willing to sincerely denounce their own child as stupid or bad, only smiled and nodded before trying to determine for himself whether Harry could do anything more than smile.

"Are you ready to go to Hogwarts, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Has Sirius been taking good care of you?"

Harry nodded.

"Do you like Brussels sprouts?"

In an attempt to prove that he did not just nod at everything, Harry shook his head even though he did not mind eating Brussels sprouts, especially when cooked by Susan.

This proved to be the exact response for which Dumbledore had been aiming, for he immediately stopped asking Harry stupid questions and exchanged more pleasantries with Sirius before the whole group departed for Ollivanders.

Soon, Ollivander was having Harry test out wands. As in the original timeline, it took a while before the eleven-inch wand made from holly and phoenix feather appeared from among the various selections. Ollivander and Dumbledore shared significant looks with each other as Ollivander held out the wand for Harry.

Harry took the wand into his hand and waved it. As Harry had fully expected and as others present had hoped and feared, a stream a red and gold sparks burst forth from the wand. Harry limited himself to smiling blandly as Ollivander exclaimed over the match while Dumbledore intently observed Harry.

* * *

Feeling more whimsical than usual, Susan boarded the Hogwarts Express on the morning of the first of September and selected an empty compartment near the back of the train. She was just settling in when Hermione joined her.

"I love the beginnings of school years," Hermione declared as she took the window seats across from Susan and clutched a textbook, a dreamy look in her eyes.

Susan smiled. "Did you have a good holiday with your parents?"

"It was amazing," Hermione replied. "What have you heard about Harry Potter?"

"Nothing from my aunt," Susan said honestly. "There was not much in the _Daily Prophet_ , either."

"I know that," Hermione said. "I wish their investigative reporters would do better. All they had all summer was speculation and opinion. Do you think he will be here on the train?"

Susan shrugged. "I don't know."

Ironically, Susan was still being honest with Hermione. Insistently, she gave a mental nudge to Harry. _At the rate you are going, you will miss the train!_

 _Sirius insisted on cooking breakfast for me_ , Harry explained. _Naturally, it was neither as fabulous nor as quick as he planned._

 _If he messed up my kitchen, there will be consequences_ , Susan fumed.

 _I'll tell him that_ , Harry said.

 _How?_ Susan asked.

 _I think he's already guessed that we're talking_ , Harry said. _He's trying to clean up._

 _Good, but hurry_ , Susan said before turning her attention back to Hermione, who had been speculating whether Harry attending Hogwarts was a realistic possibility or even a good idea.

Susan was spared from having to engage in the speculation by the successive arrivals of Ron, Neville, and Hannah. Soon, they were all chattering about their summers. Hermione and Susan fielded a lot of questions about discovering Harry Potter lying on the street. Susan artfully deflected the focus of the conversation to Hermione, who gladly obliged the others with every detail.

Susan smiled as she watched Harry and Sirius appear on the train platform and board the train unnoticed by the others. They were all shocked when Sirius slid open the door to the compartment and looked in on them.

"Hello, there," he said. He nodded toward Hermione and Susan. "Aren't you two the witches that found Harry Potter on the street earlier this summer?"

"Yes," Hermione said, her mouth dropping open as she realized that Harry Potter must be on the train.

Sirius grinned. "I am Sirius Black and am Harry's godfather. I hate to impose on you again, but would you and your friends be willing to take Harry under your wings and show him around Hogwarts?"

Hermione quickly assured Sirius that Harry was in good hands. Grinning wickedly, Sirius stepped aside and ushered Harry into the compartment, where Harry was promptly seated in between Hermione and Ron.

"At the moment, he cannot speak," Sirius informed the group of children. "But he can hear and understand everything, I assure you."

"Will you be riding the train as well?" Hermione asked.

"No," Sirius said. "I'm afraid I must immediately attend to domestic matters back at home. But, you will all be seeing me sooner than you might expect." He winked at them all before sliding the compartment door shut and leaving the train.

As the train departed the train station, all present gave Harry a warm welcome. Ron and Neville shook his hand and introduced themselves. Hannah, and Susan introduced themselves, smiled prettily, and wished Harry well. Hermione largely dominated the conversation as she told Harry all about Hogwarts and asked him various questions.

Harry used his facial expressions and non-verbal gestures to signify interest in the conversation. Susan, who was studiously affecting interest in the passing scenery, concluded that Harry must like his friend Hermione a lot because she was not sure that had she been in his shoes she would have patiently sat through what amounted to an entire seminar from the young witch.

Realizing that she was beginning to feel unnecessarily catty, Susan politely excused herself from the compartment to visit the loo and stop by a few of the other compartments to exchange greetings. When Susan returned to her compartment, she found the occupants telling Harry about the Sorting Hat and the various houses.

As Susan sat down, Hermione, reminded by Susan's presence, began telling Harry about how Susan had successfully predicted that Hermione would be a Gryffindor.

"Would you like to see if Susan can guess your house?" Hermione asked Harry.

Harry grinned and nodded.

Everybody looked expectantly at Susan.

"Are you going to lick your finger and hold it in the air or are you going to stick your finger on his nose?" Hermione asked. She was still trying to figure out whether and how it was Susan was able to predict the future.

Susan pursed her lips as she looked at Harry mischievously.

Harry, who had heard about Susan's ability to predict the future smiled blandly, but his eyes betrayed a keen appreciation for Susan's whimsy.

"He looks like a hard one," Susan sighed.

"Are you giving up?" Ron asked.

"No," Susan said, suddenly grinning. "I will simply have to get up close and personal. If you trade places with me, Ron, I can get started."

Ron quickly accepted the opportunity to take Susan's window seat. Using the space next to Harry that Ron had left vacant, Susan then proceeded to climb onto Harry's lap and place her ear to his chest. She sat there for several minutes, pretending to listen.

Eventually, Susan clambered off of Harry's lap and sat down next to him properly. Susan solemnly announced her findings. "In the chest of this young man beats the heart of a true Gryffindor."

Hermione rolled her eyes with disgust while everybody else, Harry and Susan included, had a good laugh. Ron and Neville soon were talking about how it was only natural that the Boy Who Lived would be a Gryffindor.

* * *

Resignedly, as all of the actual first-year students waited their turn to be sorted, Harry walked to the front of the Great Hall, sat down, and allowed Professor McGonagall to place the Sorting Hat on his head.

 _It's about time you showed your face around here_ , the hat observed to Harry.

 _Hello to you, too_ , Harry responded, the tone of his thoughts making it clear he was not in the mood to get in a pointless argument with the hat.

The hat chuckled. _I must say, the whole Heir of Hufflepuff schtick you were pulling last year was quite amusing. Do you have any idea how infuriated Salazar would be if he knew what you had done?_

 _It isn't too hard to imagine,_ Harry replied. _What would Hufflepuff have thought?_

 _Amused_ , the hat observed. _She would have even helped. Your soulmate is remarkably similar to Hufflepuff. That is lucky for you because she figures prominently in your future._

 _Yes, I had surmised that_ , Harry said.

 _I guess you want me to sort you_ , the hat hypothesized. _Or, at least, pretend to sort you._

 _That's kind of the point, isn't it?_

 _Yeah. I suppose. I think you would be a fabulous Slytherin._

 _No. Gryffindor._

 _Come on. Be reasonable_ , the hat pleaded.

 _It's my choice._

 _Actually, it isn't,_ the hat informed Harry.

 _Oh, really?_

 _Yes. You see, I operate under certain strictures. The Founders did not want me pulling any fast ones on them. They, unlike the current headmaster, did not trust me. In light of last year's shenanigans, it is literally impossible for me to sort you into Slytherin's house. You are forever an enemy of Slytherin's legacy. That means you're stuck with GRYFFINDOR!_

Before Harry could say anything clever or sarcastic, Professor McGonagall had removed the hat from his head. Amidst cheers, he made his way to the Gryffindor table, where he was gratified to find that Hermione had saved him a seat.

* * *

Susan was fully prepared to wink mysteriously at Hermione as soon as the Sorting Hat announced that Harry would be in Gryffindor, but Hermione only barely glanced Susan's way before focusing her entire attention on Harry, who looked overjoyed to be back at Hogwarts around so many who had died.

Feeling distinctly perturbed as she watched Hermione point various features of the castle out to Harry, Susan failed to pay attention during the majority of the sorting and only came out of her reverie just in time to hear Romilda Vane be sorted into Gryffindor and watch as the young, dark-haired witch took her place at the Gryffindor table and unabashedly made eyes in Harry's direction. Susan shuddered.

Soon, Professor Dumbledore was making the announcements. The students politely clapped for Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, who would be team-teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Hagrid, who would be teaching Care of Magical Creatures.

Professor Dumbledore then made an announcement that Susan and Harry had not expected.

"In light of the difficulties from the last two school years, the Ministry wants to ensure that the students are safe," Dumbledore informed the student body in a benign tone of voice. "The Minister of Magic has personally selected Aurors Proudfoot and Savage and Mr. Yaxley, all from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, to help the Hogwarts staff monitor the premises for danger. None of them are here tonight, but after today, at least one of them will be here or on call at all times."

With that concluding announcement, the feast officially began.

As the feast progressed, Susan made a special effort to chat amicably with Hannah and other Hufflepuffs. But, watching Harry associate with his friends without her was proving harder to bear than Susan had expected. Knowing that it was necessary for the sake of security was a cold comfort.

Impetuosity eventually overcame Susan. _Let's meet sometime after the feast_ , Susan said to Harry through their mental link.

 _Okay_ , Harry responded, sounding cheerful. _I think I will need to let them show me my dorm, first, though._

 _All right_ , Susan said reluctantly, wishing that she and Harry could just spirit themselves away to the peace of their house on Drury Lane and stay there for the rest of the school year instead of actually attending Hogwarts.

* * *

Under the close supervision of Hermione, Ron, and Neville, Harry made his way to Gryffindor Tower, where he was given the grand tour by his once and future friends. Conscious that Susan would be waiting for him, Harry did his best to prevent the tour from being too long. His inability to speak proved helpful in this regard and prevented any lengthy conversations.

Eventually, Hermione departed from the boys' dorm as everybody began to unpack and get ready for classes the next day. Harry did not currently have the benefit of his invisibility cloak, but he had experience with fighting in the war. Using that experience and a few well-placed charms, Harry was able to slip away from the third-year boys' dorm and exit Gryffindor Tower without anybody noticing him.

Using his connection to Susan, Harry found her waiting for him in the Room of Requirement.

"So, how are you enjoying things?" Susan asked as she stood up from the armchair on which she had been lounging and approached Harry.

 _Seeing all of them again is amazing_ , Harry told her. _But, its strange, too. They are all so . . . young. It is strange when your best friends are suddenly so much younger than you._

Suddenly, Susan was kissing Harry, who did not hesitate to reciprocate.

 _What was that for?_ Harry asked with a smile as they pulled apart after a moment.

"I'm just glad that you see that we are the adults here and that they are the children," Susan said vaguely.

Harry grinned at Susan. _Especially Hermione._ He winked.

A faint tinge of red appeared on Susan's cheeks.

 _She's like a sister to me_ , Harry informed Susan.

"Of course," Susan said smoothly, not willing to admit to her jealousy.

The couple chit-chatted for a few more moments before leaving the Room of Requirement. Even after they had gone to their separate dorms and slipped into bed, they continued to chat. Susan drifted off to sleep first, leaving Harry to bask in the warm glow of renewed friendships and a budding romance.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione appeared in the boys' dorm bright and early to ensure that Harry would make it to the Great Hall early enough for a good breakfast and a head start on finding his classes. Harry and Ron groggily humored her and were soon seated at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast.

When Professor McGonagall distributed the class schedules, Hermione seized Harry's schedule and promptly went into conniptions.

"What's the matter?" Ron yawned as he shoveled a second helping of eggs and bacon onto his plate.

"They've put him in third-year classes and left off half of the subjects!" Hermione exclaimed. "This must be some sort of mistake. Don't they realize that he's starting from the beginning on all of these subjects?"

Ron abandoned his food for a moment and looked at Harry's schedule over Hermione's shoulder. "Wicked! He doesn't have to go to Potions."

"Potions is one of the foundational subjects! This is terrible." Hermione shot back.

 _What's going on over there?_ Susan asked Harry.

 _Hermione is displaying concern for my academic welfare_ , Harry responded, looking past Hermione, who sat facing him, and making eye contact with Susan, who was sitting next to Hannah at the Hufflepuff table.

 _Honestly_ , Susan grumbled over the telepathic connection without finishing her thought. Harry was used to Hermione's ministrations and largely tuned her out. Eventually, Sirius, who planned to use his part-time professor status to avail himself of all the free meals he could, appeared for breakfast and rescued Harry.

"We thought that it would be good to keep Harry with students his own age," Sirius explained to Hermione. "I think you'll find him able to meet the challenge, especially with friends like you."

"But, Professor Black," Hermione responded, "he's missing entire subjects from his schedule, and there are important things he has missed from first and second year."

"Harry will be visiting me regularly in Hogsmeade for tutoring on the side," Sirius said. "Everything has been arranged with Professor Dumbledore. Harry will be caught up in time for his O.W.L.s, let me assure you."

Sirius's reassurance proved successful in resolving Hermione's concerns, and, soon, she settled into the swing of things.

It took Susan a little longer to settle into the pace of the school year, though. Even in the classes where Susan was able to sit with Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Hannah, she still felt as if she was not quite part of the group.

Susan's discomfort was finally put to rest once she and Harry were able to establish a regular pattern of going to their house in Hogsmeade and sharing exclusive one-on-one time together. Even if Harry and Susan could always surreptitiously chat with each other mentally, it was nice when they could be entirely free from distractions and able to behave in a manner consistent with their connection without betraying their secrets. It was also nice to blow off school.

Although Sirius could have arranged it so that Susan was openly making visits to Hogsmeade, the three decided that it would be better, for the time being, if they were discreet, so that they did not face a flood of visitors while Harry, Susan, and Sirius were trying to either enjoy some leisure time or wage their war against Lord Voldemort.

When Susan's visits to Hogsmeade coincided with dinner time, the three always ate dinner together at the house while discussing the happenings at Hogwarts and their plans to engineer Lord Voldemort's downfall.

"I've been meaning to ask," Sirius said one night as they feasted on fried pork chops, "whether you had Yaxley, Proudfoot, and Savage poking around the school in the original timeline."

"No, just Dementors protecting us from some nutjob," Susan responded. "Why? Have they been up to something suspicious?"

"Not that I've seen," Sirius said. "They just stop in occasionally and ask if everything is all right."

 _Probably spying for Fudge_ , Harry observed darkly.

"Harry says they are probably spying for Fudge," Susan said aloud.

Sirius nodded. "I think Harry is right."

They moved onto discussing what Harry and Susan thought of the various classes. They had some good chuckles over Harry having to endure tutoring from Hermione nearly every time he set foot in the Gryffindor common room.

As they were getting ready to return to the castle for the night, Sirius managed to take Susan aside for a private conversation.

"Susan," Sirius began, "I've observed that you are feeling frustrated with how things are up at the school. I've seen the looks you direct toward the Gryffindor table when you think nobody is watching."

"It's fine, Sirius. Really," Susan said, trying to reassure him, and to a small extent, herself. "Publicly maintaining a distance between ourselves is a sacrifice that Harry and I have to make for the time being. I just wish it did not leave me feeling like the third wheel so often."

Sirius nodded sympathetically. "Just remember that you're the one with the monopoly. You're the only person who can hear Harry's voice. You can talk to him any time you want. You're the only person aside from Harry that has seen the alternate future. And of course, you get to come here any time you wish."

He then became more somber. "If Yaxley, Proudfoot, and Savage are spying for Fudge, they can only be looking for one thing, and that is Harry's soulmate."

Susan shuddered.

"The revelation of your connection would prove hazardous to you both," Sirius cautioned.

"I know," Susan said.

* * *

It did not take Harry long to leave his teachers and fellow students with the impression for which he, Susan, and Sirius had decided to aim. Anyone who asked would be told that Harry Potter was nice, quiet, and able to do everything that did not require an incantation.

The notoriety surrounding Harry soon faded, though those who had befriended him on the Hogwarts Express remained by his side. In particular, Hermione insistently helped him with homework whenever she could, but her use of the time turner kept her from keeping very close track of Harry's schoolwork.

Harry and Susan were soon spending more and more time at the house on Drury Lane. Dinnertime conversations with Sirius began to center on Lord Voldemort's horcruxes. After hearing both Sirius and Susan's input, Harry made the executive decision to pursue the capture and destruction of the ring. Over dinner one October evening, they all discussed the strategy for pursuing the ring.

 _Considering what happened to Professor Dumbledore in the original timeline, we should do some research before tackling it. Sirius should be able to access the restricted section of the library_ , Harry said to Susan, who relayed the message to Sirius.

"As long as we all go together, we should be fine," Susan observed. "If it looks like anybody is feeling tempted by the stone, the others should be able to break the enchantment, with a stunner, if necessary."

"I'm perfectly happy to do as much research as possible," Sirius said. "We should not charge into a situation that proved challenging for Dumbledore."

Harry nodded. _In all fairness, though, I do not think we are as at much risk as Dumbledore was. Let's dedicate a month or two to the research. If we're still hesitant, we can move on to the tiara and locket. I'm hoping we can destroy those three together without having to spend more than a few hours total with them in our possession._

Susan relayed that message and then added her own idea. "We could grab the tiara on the last day before the Christmas holiday, then grab the locket, and then proceed to Grimmauld Place. Perhaps we will be able to capture and destroy three in one day."

"It makes sense to me," Sirius agreed.

* * *

Halloween soon arrived. With it came the school's annual feast. Harry, Susan, and Sirius broke from their preferred habit of dining in Hogsmeade and attended. To Susan's delight, it was apparent upon her entry into the Great Hall that the feast was informal and that the students were not overly concerned with sitting at the correct house tables. She grabbed Hannah and made her way over to the Gryffindor table.

"Hello, there, Mademoiselle Somebody," one of the Weasley twins said by greeting as Susan seated herself next to Neville, across from Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Susan winked at the twins and turned her attention to the ongoing conversation among her friends.

"You're killing yourself with schoolwork," Ron said to Hermione.

"I cannot afford to fall behind," Hermione insisted. She turned her attention to Harry. "I hope you are using your time at home with Professor Black to catch up."

Harry nodded to signal that he was using his time appropriately.

"Harry is doing well in his classes," Neville told everybody before asking Hermione what Muggles did on Halloween and launching a long discussion where everybody, except Harry, told stories about their family's Halloween traditions.

Eventually, the feast ended, and the bulk of the student body exited the Great Hall together. While the students were exiting the Great Hall, flames exploded from on one of the walls just outside the doors as startled students screamed and shielded their faces. The flames died out quickly, leaving behind plenty of singed eyebrows and a message on the wall written with what appeared to be neon green paint.

I'M BACK FOR YOU, HUFFLEPUFF.


End file.
